Delta Force: The Rescue of Flight 103
by HodrichMaid
Summary: An American airliner en route from Europe is hijacked by the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. Follow the story of an experienced Delta Force Major, Alfred F. Jones, in the struggle to save his boyfriend, flight attendant Arthur Kirkland, and 180 passengers and crew on board of the Boeing 707 jetliner.
1. Athens

I hope I'm not offending anyone with this story, as it's only meant for recreational purposes and the information I put in this story was taken from the several hijacks committed by the PFLP during the decade of the 1970s. I'm using the fandom name of Iraq, by the way.

* * *

It was a warm day in Athens and summer in Greece was even lovelier for the usually grumpy Englishman who was getting ready to board his flight in a couple hours, when the van would pick the entire crew up from the hotel and get them to the airport for the pre-flight briefing. Arthur had received a letter from his lover from New York, where he would be flying this afternoon. His name was Alfred F. Jones and he had the rank of Major within the US Delta Force, which Arthur had no idea what it was but didn't care. The letter said that he would be waiting for him at the airport and would take him to the best dinner he had ever had in his life, before ending the evening with a series of romantic cuddles in Alfred's house. Arthur had blushed when he had read the things that Alfred wanted to do with him when they were alone in his bed.

The young Chief Steward fixed his black uniform in front of the full-length mirror of the hotel room and put on his jacket before leaving it with his light baggage to join his colleagues and the pilots. He had rolled his eyes when he saw the crewmembers' list that morning. He would have to supervise the stupid Vargas brothers, those incompetent Italians who could not even turn on an oven without burning the entire galley. The last time they had cooked a meal it had burned, literally, there was fire coming out of the oven and it managed to reach the curtain which caused a panic to spread among the passengers of Economy Class and Arthur's section, First Class, when they realised they had a fire on board. The plane had to make an emergency landing at Hong Kong en route from Los Angeles and they were not fired because their father was the primary investor of Pan Atlantic Airways. He was also surprised, and not in a good way, to see the name of Captain Bonnefoy in the list. He was a snobby Frenchman who was always doing his best to piss him off so he would lose his temper in front of the passengers or fellow flight attendants, so he can be discredited. He hated travelling with that captain.

He was flying with Feliks in the First Class. He was a – very – feminine Polish flight attendant who had fled his country in hopes of a better life in the United States or the United Kingdom ten years ago and, upon finishing high school and without any future projects, he decided to apply for the job of flight attendant in Pan Atlantic, which was in need of male cabin crew. As the years passed, his boss realised he had potential and sent him to First Class almost immediately after being hired. That was not the first time Arthur had flown with him. He wouldn't say they were friends, but he had fun with the Pole during long-haul flights like the one they would have to board that day.

"Everything set to go to the airport?"

Arthur asked Feliks, who was toying with a lock of his shoulder-length blonde hair in the lobby, looking bored at his nails. Arthur was checking the time in the watch he had received from Alfred. It had the Statue of Liberty in the background. It was almost noon and the flight would leave in about two hours.

"Almost, the bus is late"

Feliks said, without looking up at him. He pulled his hair up and looked at himself in the reflection of his small mirror. Arthur had to roll his eyes at his co-worker's feminine behaviour. He identified himself with the figure of the Chevalier d'Eon and had tried to make his bosses approve his request to wear a woman's uniform, but he was thoroughly denied and made fun of, but he was the strongest person Arthur knew. He wouldn't bow down in front of anyone and wouldn't let anything bother him. The Englishman would never admit it, but he admired the Polish young man. Finally, the bus arrived and the pilots where the first to climb in. Arthur had to **again** roll his eyes at his co-workers' behaviour, but didn't mind as he sat as far away from who he thought was Captain Bonnefoy – as he was seeing him from the back – as he could.

* * *

As Arthur was doing in the hotel lobby, several kilometres away from them, Farah Dahan was checking her watch while fixing her hair in the mirror of the small apartment the Party gave to her and to her fellow Party members once they were commissioned a specific task abroad their home in a refugees' camp in Lebanon. She was waiting for Gupta Muhammad Hassan, her long-time friend and colleague. Suddenly, two knocks on the door indicated her that Gupta was waiting outside.

"Come in"

She said as she opened the door for Gupta, who entered the safe house and sat down at the small table in the kitchen, across the living room. Farah closed and locked the door and sat down across Gupta, who opened his bag and took out two hand-grenades and two loaded guns, as well as a blueprint of the Boeing 707. Inside of the bag there was also a bunch of wires and C4 explosives, whose position in the plane had to be discussed after the Zuhr.

"I talked with Sadiq this morning and everything is set"

Gupta said in a whisper, because they had been taught, in the deserts of the Middle East, gun in hand that all the walls, even the fortified ones, were paper-thin and anyone could hear them talking and that could spoil their mission. Farah pursed her lips and nodded.

"Where is he right now?"

Sadiq Adnan, a Turkish man who had been a member of the Party several years, had been their commander during their training for the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, when they were both young and inexperienced children of refugees from Israel. Farah and her family had been expelled from their home in her native Haifa in 1948 upon the creation of the State of Israel by the – what she and her family thought – cruel Jews. Gupta's story was not much different than Farah's and Sadiq had pulled them both out of their misery with promises of great riches when they achieved their goal to drive the Jews out of Palestine and return to their beloved homes.

In their current mission, the chain of command was not that obvious as one would think. Sadiq was, obviously that is, the head of the entire operation but he would not carry weaponry. He was followed by Farah, who, despite being a woman in a world of men as it was the world of Islam, she had excelled in her military training in the refugees' camp and her face was well-known within the Party. Gupta was the one that would have to go through the doors carrying the armament in his bag.

Right now, there were more important things to focus on, as the clock was chiming from the wall.

"It doesn't matter"

Farah said, getting up from the table. They washed themselves and each of them extended a deep red sajjada over the dusty floor and stood over it with their hands raised.

"Allahu Akbar"

They both said in a whisper before kneeling down. Over the table, next to the explosives and the guns, there were two tickets for Pan Atlantic flight 103 to New York.

* * *

Hellinikon Airport was crowded by the time Toris Laurinatis arrived in a taxi from his hotel in downtown Athens. He had been in Greece for two weeks parading around the Greek capital with important documents in his attaché case for his boss, Mr. Braginsky, who he was going to meet in New York and deliver said documents to. It was a stressful job, but, at least, the company paid him a First Class ticket every time he travelled abroad. He loved to see the flight attendants walk by offering champagne or caviar with that elegance that characterized them. He preferred when the flight attendants, instead of being beautiful women, were cute boys so he could admire them throughout all the flight. Two years ago, in a flight from New York to Buenos Aires, he had fallen in love with a cute blonde flight attendant of First Class with shoulder-length, soft looking and nice smelling hair and emerald eyes. He had an Eastern European accent that made him look even more exotic. He had asked him for a glass of champagne every time he saw him walk by with that slight sway of his hips. The boy had started calling him "Mr. Champagne" by the arrival at Ezeiza Airport in Buenos Aires. He was surprised he didn't get even a little tipsy and mentally congratulated himself in not having made a fool out of himself in front of the cute flight attendant. He had travelled to several continents after that flight to Argentina, but he had never had the opportunity to see that flight attendant again and, after the first year went by, he lost all hope.

He shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking about that flight attendant. He went to the Ambassadors' Club, the upper lounge of the airport, where he also found several First Class passengers of Pan Atlantic flights throughout all Europe, and sat down in one of the comfortable blue couches, overlooking the tarmac and watching all those beautiful airplanes parade: Lufthansa, Air France, Alitalia, and, most especially Pan Atlantic. There was a couple arguing in one of the faraway couches, near the bar. The man looked nervous and the woman looked pissed.

"I told you, Roderick, there was no way we could have brought your damn **piano** on our honeymoon!"

The man, Roderick, rolled his eyes and huffed. The woman smiled warmly and put an arm around his shoulders, nuzzling her face into his neck, making him blush deeply.

"Didn't you have a good time without it?"

She asked. He cleared his throat and gently pushed her away, to which she responded with a frown.

"Yes, I did... but I would have had a better time **with** it, Elisabetta"

She sighed and got up. She asked the bartender for the strongest drink he could make her and she drank it in one sip, surprising her husband.

The Pan Atlantic B-707 was standing in the tarmac, under the heating Mediterranean sun waiting for permission to taxi to the Terminal. The crew had already boarded it, after the fifteen-minute briefing. Inside the aircraft, the air conditioning was working perfectly, as the engines were working as well. Arthur had gathered the entire cabin crew in the First Class cabin.

Captain Bonnefoy came out of the cockpit and approached Arthur from behind, putting his hands over his shoulders, making him shiver visibly.

"Arthur, I was surprised to see your name on the crew list this morning"

Arthur didn't turn around and spoke looking at his crew.

"Well, life is full of surprises"

"One would've thought that you would have quitted flying after what happened in Spain"

Arthur turned around with a glare in his face, red with anger. Feliks noticed and put his arms around the Italian brothers, pushing them towards Economy Class.

"Let's inspect the lavatories, shall we?"

The two Italians left and Feliks did also. When there was nobody in the cabin, Arthur looked around and spoke in a heated whisper.

"Listen, that was a black day in my life and I'm not going to consent anybody, especially not **you** , from brining that up when I'm about to board the plane..."

"I didn't mean to make you upset, Arthur, it wasn't your fault. What happened there..."

"It doesn't matter!"

Arthur stormed off to one of the lavatories, where he locked himself to calm down. A year ago, when he wasn't yet the Chief Steward and was working in Economy, a young Spanish man named Antonio had boarded a Pan Atlantic flight from Malaga to Madrid and New York with a small child he always called Romano. The kid was grumpy as an old man and kept calling the older man a "bastard", to Arthur that was quite amusing. Suddenly, during the first leg of the trip, one of the engines caught fire after an explosion and the wing began leaking fuel. When they landed at Barajas, the fire spread to the fuselage. He opened the door and deployed the slide for the passengers to evacuate the burning aircraft. He went back into the cabin and grabbed the hand of the little boy, followed by his tutor, but an explosion shook the plane and he lost them in the thick smoke. Later on, he found out that they had gone, along with a few other passengers, lost to the front of the aircraft, the place more affected by the fire. He had blamed himself for the death of all those people, especially the little boy, but thanks to therapy and his lover Alfred was able to let it go.

When he came out of the lavatory, his crew was waiting for him in the First Class cabin and the captain was nowhere to be seen, so he took a deep breath and composed himself.

"Ok, listen, the captain told me that we would start boarding in a couple minutes. The flight is full until we get to London and then sixty passengers will deplane and ten more will board the flight to New York. I hope you behave in the way it's expected from the airline's personnel"

"Yes, sir"

* * *

"Your attention, please, Pan Atlantic Airways flight 103 via Rome and London to New York boarding at Gate 1-15. Την προσοχή σας, παρακαλώ..."

The PA announcement could be heard throughout the Terminal in several languages, and the passengers started to get up from their seats and head to Gate 1-15. Toris got up from his comfortable couch, sighing, with his passport and ticket in the hand that was not holding his briefcase. The Edelweiss couple got up also, and Elisabetta draped the shawl over her naked shoulders. Among the passengers that headed to the gate were Farah and Gupta, who was holding his bag too tightly to be something legal. They were talking in Arabic to each other.

 _"Were in Allah's name is Sadiq?"_

Farah asked quite upset and handing her ticket to the stewardess. She was wearing a black wig and a light blue skirt suit with white shoes and gloves.

" _I don't know, he should be here already!"_

Gupta said, as upset as she was before giving his ticket to the stewardess after Farah boarded the plane.

Arthur and Feliks were receiving the passengers in the First Class cabin, as it was where the boarding was being made. Farah and Gupta, holding tight to his bag, made their way to the back of the plane, where they would be seated, and the First Class passengers took their seats in the front cabin. When it was Toris' turn to board, he stopped in his tracks upon seeing the flight attendant which who he had dreamed for two years: Feliks.

* * *

I hope you liked the first part of this exciting story, from my point of view. There is more to come, of course. Any comments are widely appreciated.


	2. Hijack

Thank you for the favourites and follows, I'm really glad that you all liked the story. Little side note: the dialogues in Arabic are marked in Italics.

* * *

Feliks looked closely at the man who had just stood in the middle of the galley in front of him, blocking the way for the other passengers to board. He recognised the cute brunette and his eyes lit up.

"Well if it isn't "Mr. Champagne"! What a surprise"

Toris came out of his trance and laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck while his face went completely red. Feliks was looking at him with a puzzled look and, before Toris could think of saying anything, he politely grabbed the ticket from his sweaty hand and looked at the seat number.

"Your seat number is 2-B. Come with me"

Feliks guided the stunned Lithuanian to his seat in the second row of the First Class cabin. As gently as he could, and with the sweetest smile in his face, Feliks took Toris' attaché case and put it in the overhead compartment and made sure that he had fastened his seatbelt before helping other passengers when he felt something tugging at his shirt sleeve and turned around to see Toris holding onto it, with glassy eyes. He couldn't believe he had found the love of his life, of all flight attendants who could have chosen this route, his beautiful golden angel had blessed him with his presence.

"W-What... wh-what... what is your name?"

Feliks smiled at him.

"Feliks"

He said. And that name seemed like a name chosen by the angels for Toris, who let go of his sleeve and allowed him to continue with the pre-flight checks in the galley as soon as Arthur had closed the door and the last passengers were taking their seats. Arthur cleared his throat and, when Felix in First Class, Lovino and Feliciano in Economy were standing in the aisle in clear view of all the passengers, he took the interphone and a ding dong was heard throughout the cabins.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Bonnefoy and his crew welcome you on board Pan Atlantic Airways flight 103 via Rome and London to New York. Our flight time to Rome will be an hour and forty minutes and we will have a stopover of an hour at Fiumicino International Airport before heading to London Heathrow Airport, where we will depart for our final destination, New York, which will take us approximately seven hours and thirty minutes. My name is Arthur Kirkland and I will be your Chief Steward today..."

Farah and Gupta looked at each other. Gupta was sweating profusely, while Farah was calm although she was twisting her gloves in her hands because she knew that the doors had already been closed off and there was no way they would open them for Sadiq, so obeying the chain of command, _she_ was in charge of the whole mission.

"... At this moment we would like your full attention to demonstrate the safety features of this aircraft Boeing 707, you can follow the flight attendants by reading the safety card located in the seat pocket in front of you. When the seatbelt sign is on, you must fasten your seatbelts. To do so, insert the metal pin into the buckle until you hear a click and, to adjust it, pull the strap"

The three flight attendants demonstrated how to fasten the seatbelt and Toris was mesmerized by Feliks, who occasionally stole glances of him, knowing that he was being watched intently from somewhere in the cabin. Of course, he was completely exposed standing in front of the aisle, but he knew that there was other kind of look in there.

In the cockpit, the First Officer was radioing Hellinikon Tower asking for permission to taxi to the runway and wait for instructions for takeoff.

"Roger, Pan Atlantic 103, this is Hellinikon Tower, clear for taxiway Eco. Wait for instructions. Over"

The thick Greek accent of the air traffic controller could be heard in the three pilots' headphones. When Francis made sure that the stairs were removed from the aircraft, he drove the thrust levers forward an inch and the plane began rolling towards the assigned taxiway.

In the cabin, the flight attendants had finished the safety demonstration and pre-flight in English and it was the time to translate it for the Italian passengers, so Arthur gathered all the knowledge he had accumulated over the years of the Italian language and began speaking through the PA system.

"Buongiorno, signori e signori, benvenuti a bordo de Pan Atlantic Airways volo numero 103..."

In the Terminal, someone ran towards Gate 1-15, whose flight number was changed to flight 111 to Paris and New York. It was Sadiq, who had a telephone conference with their superiors in the Party in his safe house and had lasted more than he had expected. He was supposed to board flight 103 along with Farah and Gupta, but things went out of hand. And there was heavy traffic in downtown Athens, so he couldn't make it in time. He addressed the stewardess at the gate.

"I need to board that flight, I have the ticket!"

Sadiq said, clearly out of breath. The stewardess was a little shocked at his aspect, as he looked like he had just ran a marathon. He was sweaty.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the flight is full and is already in the runway"

The stewardess said. Sadiq cursed in Arabic and then grabbed her by the uniform, pulling her over the desk, alarming the security officers around the place.

"You don't understand! I **need** to board that flight!"

The officers removed him from the stewardess, who took a step back in fear, trembling a little, and took him under custody. In the plane, which was rolling for takeoff after the flight attendants had finished the demonstrations, the situation between Farah and Gupta was tense, but they knew they had to act anyways. Allah and their superiors commanded them to do so. Farah looked at Gupta and whispered in Arabic.

" _Sadiq is not here, so I'm the boss now_ "

She whispered to Gupta, feeling a little proud of herself. Gupta was surprised.

" _Never in a million years!_ "

" _We'll see_ "

Farah said, looking at the front and avoiding eye contact with Gupta, which was fuming in anger. In the First Class galley, the flight attendants where already strapped in and Feliks sighed. Arthur looked at him, wondering.

"What is wrong?"

Feliks looked up through his bangs, which he pushed back behind his ear.

"I hate taking off from Athens. Greece is my favourite destination, I love it so much, and it's even prettier in summer"

Arthur smiled, looking forward, at the passengers, who were, in turn, looking out the windows, and put a hand over Feliks' knee in a reassuring manner.

"Don't worry, you'll come back. You always do"

Feliks laughed half-heartedly. In the cockpit, the pilots were busy with their pre-takeoff checklist until the voice of the Greek air traffic controller was heard through their headphones announcing them that they were cleared for takeoff.

"Pan Atlantic 103, cleared for takeoff. At 1-0 thousand contact Athens Departures at 128.950"

"Roger, Pan Atlantic 103, cleared for takeoff contact Athens Departures at 128.950. Thank you"

Francis and the Second Officer pushed slightly the thrust levers forward and the engines accelerated, the plane rolling up the runway. The passengers were mesmerized at how fast the plane was going and not even the slightest movement was felt.

"V1"

The First Officer said, eyes focused on the shortening runway in front of them. Francis and the Second Officer released the thrust levers when the maximum speed for takeoff was reached.

"Rotate"

Francis pulled slightly the yoke and the ill-fated plane finally took off into the Mediterranean sky.

* * *

At cruising altitude, the "Fasten Seatbelts" sign was turned off by the captain and most passengers got up to stretch their legs and go to the lavatories. The flight attendants stood up as well and, for the First Class stewards, it was time to prepare the welcome cocktail which consisted of, basically, champagne and canapés. Arthur and Feliks took off their jackets and tied up their black aprons behind their backs. Arthur looked down at his watch and smiled fondly. Feliks noticed when he was about to uncork the bottle of Dom Pérignon and smirked.

"Why is our Chief Steward so smiley today? I don't think it's because of the summer"

He said, without looking at Arthur directly. He, who was putting the service tray together, stopped in his tracks and turned around with his characteristic frown in his face.

"What are you talking about?"

He asked and Feliks turned around with a sassy expression in his face and his hands on his hips. He clicked his tongue with a loop-sided grin and pushed his hair back behind his ear. Arthur smiled and grabbed a glass of water to drink because his mouth felt dry.

"I know about your boyfriend in America... is he a hunk?"

Arthur choked on the water and almost spit it. Feliks laughed and turned around, successfully uncorking the bottle of champagne with a satisfied giggle.

"Did I tell you about the guy I was dating in Amsterdam? He was **quite** the hunk. Tall, spiky hair and with a strange obsession with tulips, but he was cute"

Arthur laughed and took the tray with him to the cabin to offer the canapés to the passengers when he heard a man and a woman yelling from behind the curtain that separated the First Class cabin from the Economy Class one. Several more screams and shouts followed. They were screaming in what Arthur recognised as Arabic, as he had taken classes for a couple months, but finally left for personal reasons.

" _Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!_ "

Arthur approached the curtain, tray in hand and the passengers turned around to see what the fuzz was all about when a sudden kick to the chest sent the Englishman flying to the galley causing him a great pain and difficulty to breathe. Feliks ran to help him when Gupta pulled him up by the hair. Arthur looked up and he could see a cute woman, Farah, wearing a light blue skirt suit and a white shawl draped over her head and neck, covering part of her hair.

Toris tried to get up from his seat to defend Feliks, but he was hit in the head with a gun by Farah and passed out in his seat. A woman next to him made sure his head was not too tilted back and tried to fix him as much as she could.

" _Take me to the cockpit!_ "

Farah demanded to Feliks, whose hair was being pulled by Gupta, who, in turn, was holding a hand grenade. Panic took over the passengers both in First Class and Economy, where the Vargas brothers who had started the drink service with the trolley in the aisle, were watching intently. Lovino was scared shitless, but he wouldn't let that show, and Feliciano was visibly in the edge of tears, as were too, some passengers.

"I don't understand what you are saying!"

Feliks screamed when Gupta removed the pin of the grenade with his teeth, scaring the Pole and all the other passengers. Toris and Arthur were starting to recover conscience and the blonde flight attendant realised that they were being hijacked. Farah pointed the gun at Feliks' head, whose eyes widened immediately at the prospect of being so close to death.

" _Take us to the_ _ **damn**_ _cockpit,_ _ **now**_ _!_ "

She yelled and Arthur could recognise what language they were speaking and could understand the word "cockpit", so he coughed and got up. Farah turned her attention to him, as did everyone.

" _I take you"_

Arthur said awkwardly. He couldn't articulate well in Arabic, but it was enough for the terrorists to grab him and push him against the cockpit door, causing him an even greater pain. He looked at the gun pointed at him and at the hand grenade first before knocking on the door.

"Captain, please open. I brought you some coffee"

From inside the cockpit, there had been a tense silence when they heard the screaming and shouting in a foreign language, so the flight engineer got up from his seat and looked through the peephole of the cockpit door, where he saw Arthur being pushed around with a gun pointed at his head. He had told the captain, who had immediately changed the squawk code to 7500, the international call sign for hijack.

"Pan Atlantic 103, this is Athens Departure, please confirm squawk 7500"

"Yes, sir"

Francis said through the radio. There was a long silence, only interrupted by Arthur's nervous voice through the door, before the air traffic controller spoke again.

"Roger, I will inform the American Embassy immediately"

Francis turned around and nodded at the Second Officer, who took a deep breath before opening the door, knocking the hand grenade's pin out of Gupta's mouth, which fell to the floor. A tense silence overtook both the cockpit and the cabins when Arthur kneeled down, picked it up and put it back in the terrorist's mouth. Farah pushed Arthur away with her gun and commanded the flight engineer to sit down.

" _My name is Farah Dahan; I'm the new commander of this airplane_... this plane... mine, now"

She struggled to say in English at last. The pilots understood, nevertheless, and Francis nodded. Arthur couldn't keep his eyes off the captain while T0ris helped Feliks up and sat him down with the help of another man in the couch of the small lounge just in front of the cabin, while the terrorists weren't looking. Arthur ran to his fellow flight attendant and made a gesture for the both men to sit down as he tried to calm Feliks down.

"I'll stay"

Said Toris, before sitting down next to Feliks and taking his small hand within his'. Arthur nodded and wiped the sweat from his forehead. This whole situation was stressful enough. Feliks' eyes were wide open, his mouth was agape and he was not moving, only trembling.

"Feliks, please, calm down. Everything will be all right"

In the cockpit, Farah was threatening Captain Bonnefoy with his gun and Gupta with his hand grenade.

"I'll take you anywhere you want to go, but tell your friend to put that pin back into that hand grenade"

The hijackers didn't understand a word of what he had said, so they brought Arthur in forcefully to the cockpit to translate to them in his poor Arabic knowledge. Francis sighed and explained to Arthur what he had told Farah before.

"Tell him to put that pin in the hand grenade or will all die"

Arthur nodded and addressed Gupta, who was looking at him with a dark expression in his face. Farah was keeping a close eye in the pilots, pointing her gun at them.

" _Please... the bomb, put it back..._ "

He tried to say, but he was very nervous and was tripping over his words, but apparently the hijacker seemed to understand, and he put the safe back in the grenade, making everyone in the cockpit sigh with relief.

" _Now, fly to Beirut!_ "

Farah demanded, to which Francis looked at Arthur waiting for his translation.

"T-They want us to fly to Beirut"

Francis sighed and changed heading in the auto-pilot. By that time, the aircraft and the 180 people on board were doomed for disaster.


	3. Passports

I want to thank all of the support I've been getting for this story through reviews – that are not shown in FanFiction I don't know why, but I've read it in my email account – and PMs. Also, I'm using both of Israel's fandom names and pairing them together.

* * *

Gupta closed the door of the cockpit and addressed the passengers and the flight attendants of First Class, who were looking intently at the grenade he had in his hand before taking out a gun from his jacket pocket and pointing at them. Feliks squeezed Toris' hand tightly and the latter just rubbed his back comfortingly, making him know he was there for him.

" _Back everybody, to the tail of the plane..._ "

Upon seeing that no one understood them, he got angry and grabbed Arthur by the collar of his shirt pulling him to a standing position. He was shivering when he felt the cold steel of the gun against his heated and sweaty skin.

"H-He wants you to go back... to the Economy Class cabin, please"

Toris got up and helped Feliks while the other passengers unfastened their seatbelts and went to the back of the plane. Arthur was released and he went over to help the First Class passengers take a seat at the Economy section, which was full.

"Please, make room"

He asked Vash Zwingli, a blonde Swiss tourist who had been forced to pay for those expensive vacations in Greece and Italy by his sister, who was travelling alongside him, Lilly, who sat on her big brother's lap allowing a passenger to sit down. Several women had to pile up with men in their seat in order to make room to the First Class passengers.

"We have to take this trolley out"

Feliciano said, teary-eyed, to his brother, who started pushing towards the galley, where they stored it and secured it with straps. The Edelstein couple was forced apart as there was one free seat at 23-C and another one at 21-D, both in the aisle. A traumatized Feliks and Toris were holding hands, an aisle sitting them apart. Arthur went to the galley with the Italian brothers, while Gupta stood in front of the open curtain. The air conditioning was working perfectly, but, by the excess of people in the cabin, the heat was growing unbearable.

"Are you ok?"

Arthur asked his Italian flight attendants, who were hugging each other in the galley. Feliciano wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded before taking a shaky sip of water. His brother took a deep breath before answering.

"I knew those sons of bitches were up to something!"

He whispered and Arthur shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He then untied his apron, as did the Italian brothers. Lovino threw it to the other side of the galley. Feliciano left it over the counter, as did Arthur.

"That kind of talk would get us nowhere"

" _Everybody, heads down! Come on!_ "

Gupta yelled from the other side of the aircraft and Arthur poked his head out of the galley. Feliciano visibly shook upon hearing the strident hijacker's voice coming from the cabin. Gupta was moving his gun frantically. Lilly hugged her brother tightly, obviously scared to be so near the terrorist. The passengers turned around, looking at Arthur, who had moved out of the galley and into the cabin.

"Please, he wants you to put your heads down. Cover them with your hands, please. Help me, boys"

He told the Italian brothers. Arthur began walking down the aisle, followed by his flight attendants, checking if everyone's seatbelts were fastened and their heads were down. When he was in row 23, Feliciano spotted Mr. Edelstein and was surprised to see him there, so he approached him and whispered.

"Mr. Edelstein, what are you doing here?"

Roderick was as surprised to see his former piano and German student as Feliciano was to see him in that plane. The teacher shook his head and smiled before taking his hand, something that was very unusual of him, as he wasn't very much for demonstrating his affect for someone else, but he had grown to love that young boy that couldn't learn anything even if you hit him with a book. It wasn't love, it was a deep fondness.

"The same thing **you** are doing here, my boy"

Upon hearing her husband's voice, Elisabetta turned around and saw Feliciano too. They both smiled at each other. She had been her governess growing up and had also grown to love him.

" _You, shut up!_ "

Gupta yelled at Feliciano, who, startled, took a step back. Arthur went back and grabbed his hand, pulling him alongside down the aisle to check the passengers.

"You better remain silent"

When he got to Feliks' seat, he put both his hands over his shoulders and gently pushed him down and his hands over his head. He whispered in his ear, rubbing his back affectionately.

"Don't worry, everything will be alright"

"I-I'm s-scared"

Were the first few words that came out of the traumatized Pole's mouth ever since the hijack began. Toris couldn't keep his eyes off him and Arthur just caressed his back comfortingly, although he couldn't do anything with that.

" _Heads down and be quiet!_ "

Gupta yelled.

* * *

It was seven in the morning and a loud ringing of the phone woke Alfred up at, what he thought, was an inhuman hour. He yawned and took the call, knowing that there must be something **very** important for someone to be calling at such hours on a Saturday in the middle of the summer. He answered the phone and it was his commanding officer, for which Alfred opened his eyes widely and got himself together, jumping up from the bed and almost throwing the phone off the table.

"Jones, this is a national emergency. We need you here at Bragg immediately. The President has ordered us to intercept that hijacked airplane wherever the **hell** it's landing, we still don't know, but we'll find out. We need you here as soon as possible; this is an order, Jones"

Alfred yawned and tried to cover it up with a cough.

"Yes, Colonel, sir"

When the Colonel hung up, Alfred began wondering what the hell was the talking about. He had heard something about a hijacked airplane, but he hadn't heard anything else other than he was needed in Bragg, and, of course, why wouldn't they need him? He was the hero, after all. He thought that, if he turned on the TV and watched the news, perhaps he could find out a little more about that future mission. He looked for the remote control and he found it under his pillow. He always likes to watch TV at night, when he couldn't sleep, so it was normal that it was there. He turned on the TV and went straight to NBC News.

"...The incident occurred no less than fifteen minutes ago, on board Pan Atlantic Airways flight number 103 en route from Athens via Rome to New York. The aircraft is now heading for an unknown destination, presumably, somewhere in the Middle East..."

That couldn't be... could it? Alfred left the remote control aside and frantically began looking through all of the mess of papers he had in the table where the phone was. He wanted to find the sheet of paper where he had written Arthur's flight number and schedule. When he found it, he felt as if his blood had left his entire body.

Arthur's flight had been hijacked.

* * *

Gun in hand, Farah, who had left the cockpit minutes ago and allowed her underling Gupta to take her place instead, forced Arthur to pick up the interphone and give a message to all the passengers and crew of flight 103.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our flight has been hijacked by the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. Please, do exactly as they tell you and everything will be alright. Remain seated, with your seatbelts fastened and your heads between your hands, please. I promise, we will get out of this, together, safely. Thank you"

Some passengers cried, other hugged their loved ones sitting close to them. They couldn't believe that their dream holidays ended in such horrible way. Feliks squeezed Toris' hand before wiping tear tracks from his cheeks and getting up. Gupta noticed and immediately pointed his gun at him.

" _Sit down!_ "

He yelled. Feliks turned around, as he was already on his way to the galley. Toris feared for his beloved's security at that moment, so he grabbed his hand and kept him on his place.

"I'm going to the galley"

He said, with a shaky voice, but Gupta didn't understand so he began yelling again and approached, him in the aisle, where he smacked him across the face with his gun, causing some passengers to scream. Arthur ran to where the hijacker and Feliks were and pulled him away from the Pole.

"I'm not going to let you hit my flight attendants! Get back!"

He yelled at the hijacker, who glared at him and went back to his place. Toris wanted to help, but Arthur told him to remain seated, for his own safety. Farah was looking the spectacle unfolding in front of her eyes in the cabin, but didn't do anything at all, not even think much about it. She went back to the cockpit, whose door was wide open. Arthur helped Feliks up and took him to the galley, where he and Feliciano sat him at the jump seat. Feliciano brought him a glass of water and Feliks shook his head.

"I'm fine, thank you"

" _You, the blonde one! Come here!_ "

Farah said from the other side of the cabin. Arthur sighed and came out of the galley, walking with as much dignity as he could muster and approached the two hijackers who were standing in front of the first row of seats at the Economy cabin. Gupta grabbed an old lady's bag and emptied it on the floor, pushing it against Arthur's chest.

"Passports"

He said in his poor English. Arthur was surprised.

"What?"

He asked them. Gupta shook his gun at him, making Arthur step back a little.

" _Collect all passports! Now!_ "

Arthur was beyond confused, but he knew that they were up to no good. "After all, they hijacked a plane full of tourists, didn't they?" He thought bitterly.

"Why?"

He asked. Farah sighed and pinched her noise as Gupta grabbed him by the collar with the hand that was holding the secured hand grenade and pointed his gun at him. Arthur swallowed.

"Do it!"

He yelled. Arthur sighed and nodded. He grabbed the bag and began asking the front passengers for their passports. Some had to look for them in their carry-on luggage over their seats, so they had to, carefully, stand up and take them. More and more passports were being dropped into the open bag as Arthur walked up the aisle.

"Your passport, please, ma'am"

"Your passport, please, sir"

"Why do they want our passports?"

Elisabetta asked, when it was her turn to hand over hers'. Arthur looked back at the hijackers, Farah had returned to the cockpit because she didn't want the pilots to try anything funny so she kept a close eye on them, especially on Captain Bonnefoy. He whispered to Elisabetta.

"I don't know, but you better not ask many questions"

Upon hearing the identities of their hijackers, at the back of the cabin, there was panic between Gal and her husband Josef Ben Mizrahi, both Israelis and Jewish from birth, who had chosen Greece and Italy as their wedding anniversary destinations in a trip that would have lasted a month. Gal had a Hebrew ring that her husband had bought to him in Mykonos in their honeymoon in the same island they had visited during their anniversary.

"My ring is Hebrew!"

She whispered in panic at her husband. Who made sure no one heard that. They were sitting at a safe distance from the hijackers.

"Take it off and put it away"

She did as her husband told her to do and put it on her purse, resting her head on her husband's shoulder, crying. Josef caressed her cheek, both of them, without raising their heads so the terrorists wouldn't notice them. When Arthur came by to ask for their passports, they both shook, even though Josef didn't want his wife to see him tremble in fear.

"Can you give me your passports, please?"

Arthur asked with a shaky voice and Gal burst into tears, causing her husband to hug her tightly. Tears gathered at the corners of Arthur's eyes upon seeing the heartbreaking scene in front of him, but he had a task ordered by the new commanders of the plane that he couldn't ignore.

"Here"

When Arthur saw their passports realised they were Israelis and they would have a lot of trouble in that flight, if they were not killed instantly by the Arab terrorists. He feared for them, especially for the woman, who, he noticed, was pregnant and holding her belly tightly while crying into her husband's shoulder. Suddenly, he was struck with a dangerous idea.

"Put them away"

Josef and Gal raised their heads and he immediately took the passports back and hid them under their seat, unbeknownst to them, Farah had walked over to Arthur and watched the whole scene developing, so she knew that those had to be passengers that would be in a terrible risk in their hands, which made her even more intrigued.

" _Why didn't you collect their passports?_ "

Arthur turned around and swallowed. He then opened the bag to show her all the passports inside it.

"I-I have them here, I swear"

She pointed her gun at Arthur's head and he let the bag fall to the floor. Josef, with shaky hands, took the passports out of the life-jacket pocket under their seat. She read the passports' covers and smirked. She turned around, with her gun still pointing at Arthur's head.

" _Look what we have here. A couple of Israelis scum_ "

Gupta pointed at them with his gun, as did Farah.

"Get up"

She said in her poor English, but well enough for everybody to understand. Gal looked at her husband in fear and protected her belly. Arthur grabbed the woman's arm.

"Please, this woman is pregnant..."

"Shut up"

Gupta said, as Farah pointed her gun at the couple and forced to walk to the First Class cabin in plain view of everybody else on board. Some were crying and some were not surprised to see what they were doing and crossed themselves, knowing the poor couple's destiny in the hands of those blood-thirsty terrorists.

"... but, _you not understand_ , she is..."

" **Shut up!** "

He yelled and hit him with his gun across the face. Feliks and Feliciano went running to help him up. Feliks grabbed the bag to continue collecting the passengers' passports while Feliciano and Lovino took him to the galley to sit down at the jump seat and give him a glass of water, like they had done with Feliks.

* * *

Once he was done, Feliks was brought to First Class to check on the Ben Mizrahi couple, that was hugging each other in the ample seats of the cabin, and hand over the passports to Farah and Gupta.

" _Now, sit down and give me the Jewish passengers' passports_ "

Farah said, not noticing that she was talking to a different blonde steward. Arthur was still in the rear galley, while Feliciano and Lovino tried to calm the passengers and shut the curtain that divided the Economy section from First Class. Feliks didn't understand.

"I don't..."

Feliks was cut off by Farah's soft laugh. She smiled at him and adjusted her shawl.

"Oh, sorry... Jewish passports"

"B-But... I'm sorry, but American passports do not state religion... nor do I think Italians or Greeks do"

Gupta sat him down forcefully and threw the bag over his lap. He pointed his gun at the back of his head while Farah kneeled down to his level to talk to him.

"Jewish names"

Feliks let out a shaky breath before explaining to them. He had not seen the horrors of the war, as it had happened thirty years ago, but he had known them from his parents' stories. He couldn't do that to the poor Jewish people. Never in a million years.

"I-I can't... I'm half German. You can't ask me to select Jews to do things that I don't even want to think about. No, I can't"

His Polish accent was growing thicker by the time he spoke, as he was getting very nervous and his hands, which were holding the bag with the passports, where shaking. Gupta kneeled down too, and, moving Farah out of the way, pushed his gun against Feliks' chin, tilting his head up. Feliks felt a droplet of sweat making his way down the side of his forehead through his neck and into his shirt.

"You. Will. Do. It"

Feliks sucked in a deep breath and got up, not caring about the gun pointed to his chin and mustering all the bravery in him, he faced the terrorists.

"NO! I WON'T DO IT!"

He yelled throwing the bag away, all the passports scattered all over the floor, to which Gupta answered by hitting him again in the face with his gun, over the previous bruise, causing him an immense pain. Feliks fell to the floor, crying in pain and clutching his face. Gal put her hand over her mouth in horror and Josef hugged her. Gupta started kicking him in the stomach.

Toris could hear his beloved Feliks screaming in pain, so he ran to the First Class cabin. Upon opening the curtain, Farah, in surprise, shot him in the shoulder, making him fall back and all the passengers scream. Vash held tightly to his sister, who squeezed out of his embrace and ran to help him, putting her pink neckerchief over his wound. Suddenly, she felt something cold against her blonde hair.

" _Sit down_ "

Farah said calmly. Vash stood up and grabbed his sister. Arthur and Feliciano ran towards Toris, who was in the floor, moaning in pain and clutching his shoulder. Gupta had stopped kicking Feliks, who was now coughing blood.

It was as if all Hell had broken loose on board that flight, and no one could do anything to stop it.


	4. Beirut

**Please Read:** A little side note before you start reading this chapter. I'm in no way related nor do I sympathize with the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, Hezbollah or the Arab cause against Jews and the State of Israel. I like Jews, I don't have Jewish friends, unfortunately, but I would love to. And I don't discriminate against Arabs either because I think that they have a vast culture and that's what I like. I don't think every Arab is a terrorist, quite the contrary, I think that there is a small percentage of them who are such thing, but I'm not very sure. This words are sincere and come from the bottom of my heart and I wish you don't take them the wrong way.

* * *

The flight attendants had removed Toris' jacket, shirt and tie and Arthur was dipping a hand towel in a bowl full of water taken from the lavatories and pressing it against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Toris was half unconscious. Feliciano and Lovino were checking the passenger list to see if there was a doctor, but no one had stood up at the moment of the gunfire, so there was little to no hope on that matter. Suddenly, the "Fasten Seatbelts" sign was turned on and the flight attendants looked around the cabin and out of the windows, knowing that they were landing.

" _Pull down the shades!_ "

Gupta ordered and Arthur got up, leaving Feliciano to press down on the wound and try to console the poor Lithuanian man that was, slowly, bleeding to death in the aisle. He began pulling down the shades of every window. The passengers soon realised what the terrorists meant and began pulling down the curtains, quickly. Suddenly, Farah came out of the cockpit and addressed the passengers and crew on the Economy cabin, purposely avoiding the injured flight attendant and the passenger on the aisle.

" _Attention, everybody, we are landing. Don't look out the window and stay seated_ "

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are landing right now. Please fasten your seat belts and remain seated"

Arthur translated as little as he could manage to catch on what Farah had said. The passengers, still with their heads down, made sure their seatbelts were fastened. Farah kneeled down so he could speak to Feliciano, who, upon seeing her face so close, trembled.

" _An ambulance will be waiting in the tarmac to take your friend, the steward, and your passenger to the hospital as soon as we land_ "

"Eh?"

Was Feliciano's response, but Arthur approached them when he heard Farah speaking in Arabic and translated as much as he could for his fellow flight attendant.

"She said that an ambulance is going to take Feliks and Mr. Laurinatis to the hospital"

Feliciano looked up at Arthur, worried about that. He knew that things were uneasy in the Middle East, and he had a feeling that that's where they had just landed, as he felt the wheels of the landing gear touch down the runway with that characteristic grating sound. When the plane finally came to a full stop, Farah went back to talk to Gupta in the First Class galley. Feliciano whispered to Arthur, with one hand over Toris' wound and the other over his chest in worry.

"Are they going to be safe in the hospital? I mean... I don't think it's a good idea to leave them by themselves out there. It's dangerous"

Arthur sighed. Feliciano was right, but there was nothing else they could do to help them both, and a hospital was the only chance Toris had to survive and Feliks to get better and check for internal injuries.

"I know, but they'll help them there. At least they are not leaving them to die here"

Several vehicles could be heard from outside, getting close to the plane. Arthur could only imagine what he would encounter out there and there was still the hope that they would be released there in Beirut, but he knew, as did everybody else, that those were experienced terrorists who had a mission and it wouldn't be a successful mission if they didn't exchange the hostages for anything, and he doubted the American, Italian and Greek embassies could negotiate with the Palestinians there in Lebanon. That possibility was highly unlikely.

"Keep an eye on him, don't leave him alone"

Arthur said to Feliciano, with one hand over his small shoulder before walking over to the Feliks, who was sitting in one of the seats of the First Class cabin. He checked on the Israeli couple first. Gal was scared to death, but she had her husband with her and she felt a little bit better about the whole situation thanks to him. Arthur then sat down next to Feliks, who was moaning in pain. Farah turned around and glared at him.

" _Tell him to shut up_ "

Arthur glared at Farah back and, when she turned around again and continued talking in what seemed like gibberish with Gupta in the galley, put his hand on the back of Feliks' neck and on his forehead. He was clutching his belly.

"Shh, it's alright, Feliks. Everything will be alright"

He suddenly tried to move, to look back, but Arthur held him still. He didn't want him to get hurt if he had any internal injuries. He didn't want to risk it.

"Where is "Mr. Champagne"?"

Arthur was confused and he might have made a face, because Feliks smiled. He could see the blood trickling down the corners of his rosy lips.

"Toris Laurinatis, the passenger... the passenger of 2-B. The L-Lithuanian"

"Oh... he is alright"

Feliks didn't believe it, but he didn't have the strength to talk anymore and Arthur didn't want to worry him, to avoid further complications to his health. He had been pretty battered, but one thing was sure, in Feliks' mind, he had saved any Jewish passengers on board by not reading their names. Suddenly, Gupta approached Arthur and took him by the collar, pulling him slightly up the seat. Farah was behind him, looking interested in what was about to happen.

" _I want the passengers' list. If your friend couldn't do it,_ _ **you**_ _will_ "

Gupta said, pointing his gun at Arthur's chin, tilting his head backwards. Feliks squeezed Arthur's arm in fear of what they could do to him, considering what he had done to him.

"What are you talking about?"

" _Come on_ "

Gupta said through clenched teeth as he dragged Arthur to the galley and pushed him against the counter. Arthur immediately started looking for the passengers' list, which he thought that it was what the hijackers were looking for as he had only understood the words "list" and "you – something he couldn't understand – do it". He found it and gave it to him. Gupta looked at it and threw it at him. Arthur didn't know if pick it up or not. He was slightly afraid, but he wouldn't let it show in front of those bastards.

"What do you want?"

Farah walked to them, gun in hand, although not pointing at Arthur, that would have been too much for everything. Gupta stepped back and Farah picked up the passengers' list from the carpeted floor of the First Class galley and handed it over to Arthur, who took it with shaky hands.

"Jewish passengers... _Identify them for me_ "

Arthur gulped. He knew what they were up to, so he was about to deny when he realised what they could do to him if he refused, knowing what they had done to poor Feliks and Toris. Farah seemed to know what was going through Arthur's mind, so she spoke up.

" _If you don't do this little favour for us, we won't liberate your friend and your injured passenger and let him die here_ , do you understand?"

She asked in English at last. Arthur could understand, more or less, what she had said and he knew he had to do it, so he sucked in a breath and began reading the passengers' list in search of Jewish names.

Arthur couldn't' believe that he was going to do that.

* * *

Alfred got off the plane as soon as he could and drove off towards Fort Bragg in a rental. He knew he was late, but crosswind had caused a delay in the arrival at Fayetteville, and he would be reprimanded by the Colonel, a very strict man in his fifties that had proven to be in Alfred's side more than once. He was a good man, but his methods were very old-schooled and there was a secret competence between the three commanding officers of different units – Alfred: Section 1; his brother Matthew: Section 2 and their friend Gilbert: Section 3 – to be who would be the next Colonel of the Delta Force, which had been founded that same year and would take action for the first time in history abroad in Lebanon. Alfred couldn't care less about the competition, as his beloved Englishman was trapped up in the air with strongly armed hijackers. He couldn't think anything good of it.

When he arrived at Fort Bragg – late as always, and the Colonel didn't hesitate on reprimanding him – he said hi to his brother and his friend quickly before sitting down to hear the Colonel's explanation. Apparently, the plane had landed in Beirut and the terrorists had allowed the medical services to get near them, presumably, to take some injured passengers, although there was not very much said by the pilot, as he was censored by the hijackers. They still didn't know how many of them were on board and how armed they were.

"That's the situation right now. The President wants us to intercept and neutralize the situation and with as less victims as we can, but he is still trying to get clearance to operate in foreign territory, until then he wants Williams, Beilschmidt, Jones and me to prepare the field for you guys in Beirut, so we are leaving at noon"

"Roger that, sir"

The three of them said in unison, and, during a fifteen minute recess before resuming the meeting, Matthew approached his stepbrother with two cups of coffee in his hands. He offered one to Alfred, who gladly took it as he hadn't been able to have breakfast. He had left the house in a hurry.

"Are you ok, brother?"

Alfred sipped in his lukewarm coffee, sitting in the small table where Matthew quickly found a spot to sit next to him and put his arm around his shoulder. Alfred left the cup in the table.

"I don't know what's going to happen... what if those sons of bitches blow up the plane before we even **get** there? I couldn't bear losing Arthur, Mattie, I couldn't"

Suddenly, tears started forming in the blonde's eyes, but he wouldn't let his colleagues see him in such a state. Perhaps he was being too proud, but he didn't want them to sense weakness in their commander. Matthew, on the other hand, knew how much painful this situation was for his brother. He also knew how much he loved the Englishman and how devastated would he be if he lost him in such a horrible way. Matthew smiled when Alfred dropped his head between his arms against the table and tightened his grip around his shoulders.

"Don't worry, Al, we'll get them. We are gonna kick some Palestinian asses once we are there!"

Everyone in the room cheered upon hearing Matthew's quiet voice become so unusually loud. Alfred laughed half-heartedly and peeked his head up, looking at the stepbrother he had grown to love over the years, since his father married his mother.

"Thanks, bro. You are the best"

Alfred really hoped they could get there in time.

* * *

Arthur had finished reading the passengers' list and took a deep breath and, asking God for forgiveness, took the interphone to address the passengers. He swallowed nervously, as he felt Farah's eyes looking at him intently from where she was sitting, in the First Class lounge, smoking a cigarette.

"Mr. Edelstein, please come to First Class"

Both Elisabetta and Feliciano turned around to see him in fear when they heard his name being called by Arthur through the PA system. Feliciano was helping his brother, Lovino, move Toris' body from the centre of the aisle to one of the seats in First Class. Upon hearing them, Feliks slowly turned around.

"P-Put him here, with me"

Feliciano and Lovino complied and put the injured Lithuanian next to the Pole, who caressed his hand lovingly. Back in the Economy section, Roderick cleared his throat and got up from his seat, walking over to First Class. Elisabetta grabbed his hand and stopped him in the middle of the aisle.

"Don't go"

Roderick caressed the side of his wife's face warmly, with a sad smile on his face. He wasn't one to smile much, but these kind of risky situations brought the best out of him.

"I have to"

" _Move! Didn't you hear?!_ "

Gupta yelled from the front of the cabin. Roderick gently pulled his wife's hand away and kept walking. Determined, Elisabetta got up and walked behind him. Gupta noticed and walked up to them, pointing at her with his gun.

" _What are you doing? Go back!_ "

Elisabetta didn't understand what was he saying, as he was speaking in Arabic, but she decided to speak up.

"I don't know what you are saying, but he is my husband and I'm going with him wherever he goes"

Gupta pushed Roderick aside and pointed at Elisabetta with his gun. Feliciano ran up to them and helped Roderick up, as he had fallen to the floor. He grabbed Gupta from behind.

"Stop pointing your **damn gun** at my passengers!"

Gupta stepped back, glaring at Feliciano. He guided the Edelstein couple to First Class. Farah approached Gupta with anger in her face.

" _What is she doing here? We didn't call her!_ "

" _She insisted on coming_ "

Farah turned around and looked at Arthur, who was also looking at Elisabetta and wondering what was she doing there.

" _Ask her if she is Jewish_ "

Arthur approached them quickly and gently pushed Farah aside.

"Oh, she wants to know if you are Jewish"

"No, I'm not. But I'm going where my husband goes"

Elisabetta answered, determinately, holding onto her husband's arm almost protectively. Roderick put his hand over hers' in a gesture of love. Arthur smiled sadly and turned around to face Farah.

" _S-She says... she goes where her... husband... goes"_

He said awkwardly. He didn't know if he was saying it right, but Farah seemed to understand, as she grabbed Arthur's arm and pushed him towards the interphone again. He continued reading the passengers' list until there was two more passengers, both of them male around the ages of twenty or thirty, sitting in First Class. When he was done, he went to the lavatory to cry and think of Alfred.

"Oh, Alfred, how much I miss you"

He said in between sobs. Ten minutes later, when he heard banging on the lavatory's door, he washed his face and composed himself before stepping out and facing Gupta.

" _The ambulance is coming_ "

Arthur swallowed and tried his best to avoid his voice sounding like he had been crying. As Alfred, he didn't want to show weakness in front of the terrorists and his passengers, because if the flight attendants didn't keep their pose, who would, then? Farah told Arthur to open the door for the staircase, and when he did, he was hit by an intense heat that forced him to lean against the fuselage and fan himself with the passengers' list.

"Oh my God"

When he looked out, he was horrified to see several armed men guarding the plane and ten or twelve of their vehicles parked in the tarmac, where there were **more** people. Arthur could see the devastated city farther away, and the occasional column of black smoke rising into the warm Mediterranean sky. Suddenly, an ambulance appeared and two male nurses stepped down with a stretcher. Arthur went immediately to Feliciano and Lovino.

"Help me get Mr. Laurinatis on the stretcher"

The Italian brothers complied and helped the injured Lithuanian over the stretcher while Feliks watched, tears in his emerald eyes. Arthur smiled at him and put his hand over his shoulder.

"He will be alright"

" _Is the blonde one the other patient?_ "

One of the nurses asked Farah, pointing at Feliks. She nodded and they went off the plane and into the ambulance. Arthur was worried that they were going to leave him there, but they returned, without any stretcher or wheelchair, they just pulled him up and took them to the airplane's open door. Arthur followed them and the Italian brothers stood behind.

"You will be alright, Feliks. I promise"

"T-Thank you, A-Arthur"

Feliks managed to say before he was taken off the plane. Farah put her arm across the open door to prevent Arthur for going any further. The blonde flight attendant faced the hijacker.

"I want you to liberate women and children. _Women and children... liberate_ "

He said in Arabic at last. Farah clicked her tongue, sighed and nodded, but before Arthur and the other flight attendants could go into the cabin and tell women and children that they were safe, Farah stopped him by grabbing his arm.

" _Only ten_ "

" _What?! No!_ "

" _Only ten, or they all stay on board. Make your choice"_

Now it was Arthur's turn to sigh. He considered his options and decided to play along or else, they would all be doomed. He motioned Feliciano and Lovino to go to the cabin and he turned around to face Farah before leaving.

"Deal"

He went on selecting elderly women and young children, whose farewell from his parents was the most heartbreaking thing Arthur had ever seen. He had to fight to keep his emotions at bay and maintain a stoic façade in front of the scared passengers. He went to the first row and found Lilly, who was clung to her big brother.

"I don't want to go. Not without big brother"

She said, almost in the verge of tears. Arthur sucked in a breath and he put his hand over the girl's small shoulders.

"Honey, he will be alright, I promise I will look after him if you just do as they tell you"

Lilly began to cry and his brother went to console her in his lap.

"Don't cry, I will be alright, just like he said. Go and I will meet you in no time. I promise"

He kissed her temple and slowly, she got down his lap and grabbed Arthur's hand. He t0ok her to the front of the aircraft and told Farah he was going down with her. Airport authorities were waiting for the promised released hostages on the tarmac. Lilly was still crying when Arthur left her outside the plane and helped the other elderly ladies get down the stairs.

When the staircase was removed, Arthur was forced to close the door and he rested his forehead against it.

He didn't know how much time would it take for Alfred and his unit to save them all, but he couldn't bear no more of that situation.


	5. Take off

The American Embassy took immediate control of the situation and, upon the failure of the negotiations with the Lebanese government to act on their territory, they were allowed to take the hostages to the only ally of the United States in the Middle East, Israel, unbeknownst to them that there were a couple of Israeli citizens held on board that had been selected for God knows what. The ten freed women and children would be transported to Israel along with Feliks and Toris as soon as they were discharged and the latter was stable enough to be moved out of the hospital. At least they weren't being kept prisoners anymore and the other flight attendants were glad for that. During the day, they were supplied, by airport authorities, food – not much, because the commercial routes didn't fly to Beirut ever since the war began – and fuel, as the hijackers had demanded.

The night came. The heat inside of the cabin that had grown unbearable during the day the aircraft had been stranded, heating under the Lebanese sun, had subsided. The galleys had run out of ice and there was a strong smell of sweat inside the aircraft that was intolerable from Arthur's point of view. The blonde flight attendant was unceremoniously laying over the rear galley's jump seat, fanning himself with a sheet of paper he had found. The women passengers were using their hand fans and some of the men had taken off their shirts. Farah and Gupta were sitting in First Class, keeping a close eye on their prisoners. Gal was sleeping on her husband's shoulder; she had cried herself to sleep. Roderick had rolled up his sleeves and Elisabetta had tied up her hair in a bun. Farah took off her shawl and her wig, throwing them aside and surprising some of the passengers in First Class. In the cockpit, Francis had taken off his tie and opened some buttons of his shirt to deal with the heat.

Suddenly, yells in Arabic and moving vehicles could be heard approaching the aircraft from afar and the passengers and crew got even more nervous. Gupta went running to the rear galley and grabbed Arthur by the arm, pushing him against the cabin door.

"Open it"

Gupta said. Arthur looked back at Feliciano and Lovino, who felt a droplet of sweat run down their temples when they heard the commotion outside. Arthur gulped and opened the door swiftly, only to be met by ten or twelve armed men in their jeeps, parked near the tail of the aircraft. Gupta pushed him aside and Feliciano grabbed his brother's hand when they put up a stair and began boarding the airplane, yelling in happiness upon seeing Gupta, who hugged and kissed each one of them in both cheeks. They ran down the aisle towards First Class, where they met with Farah.

" _Allahu Akbar, dear friends_ "

Upon hearing the commotion in the cabin, Francis got up and told his co-pilot and his flight engineer to stay there while he checked on the passengers and the hijackers. He opened the door and was met by a contingent of armed men in the First Class cabin. He approached Farah.

"What is going on?"

Farah turned around upon hearing the captain's voice behind her. She tried to explain it to him in her poor English as best as she could.

"We wait for our leader"

She said before disappearing into the crowd. One of the armed men hit him across the face with his machine gun, throwing him to the floor for no apparent reason. Back, in the Economy cabin, Farah and Gupta were waiting for Sadiq, and when he arrived, with a belt full of grenades and a machine gun in his hand, all the hijackers started yelling, in Arabic:

" _Sadiq is here! Our leader is here! Allah be praised!_ "

Sadiq smiled dapperly at the horrified flight attendants crouching in the corner of the galley and made his way through the men who had just arrived, to First Class, where he encountered the wounded captain and the six Jewish passengers. He turned around to meet Farah with a smile.

" _Seems we have some dear friends with us, don't we?_ "

Farah smiled and motioned for him to meet the captain, who was still recovering from the hit in the face with the gun. Sadiq held out his hand and Francis took it.

"Sadiq Adnan, pleased to meet you"

He introduced himself to the captain in perfect English, unlike his colleagues.

"Francis Bonnefoy, the captain of the aircraft... I... can't say it is a pleasure to meet you"

Sadiq laughed and put his arm around the captain. Then, Farah and the other hijackers ordered the passengers of First Class to get up their seats and move to the back of the aircraft. Francis was confused and he addressed the hijackers.

"What are you doing?"

Francis asked, genuinely worried for his passengers. Sadiq, with his ever-present smile on his face, decided to answer instead of letting Farah do so, as she didn't speak English as well as he did and could make himself understandable for the captain.

"We are taking them away... to a better place"

"No, I'm afraid I can't let you do that. These are my passengers and I won't..."

Sadiq laughed, once again and tightened his grip around Francis' shoulders.

"Captain, you have to understand that you are **not** in control now, and messing with us and our decisions could get you killed. Understood? Great!"

Without waiting for an answer from Francis, Sadiq left, laughing his butt off, making sure that the passengers were taken to the rear galley, where Arthur realised they wanted those hostages off the plane, so he decided to ask Farah, who was helping them down the small stair that connected the open cabin door to the tarmac, where Gupta was pushing them into a van. He tapped her shoulder and she turned around.

" _What do you want?_ "

"What are you doing with those hostages? _Are you setting them free?_ "

"No"

She said, simply, and upon seeing the Edelstein couple walk by, Feliciano ran up to them with tears in his eyes. He grabbed Farah's arm trying to stop them from conducing them to what would be their certain death.

"You can't do this, these are **our** passengers and you don't have the right to...!"

Arthur put his hand over Feliciano's mouth, effectively shutting him up, and another in his waist, walking him to the other side of the galley. He knew what they were going to do with those hostages, but tried to avoid them doing the same with Feliciano. When Roderick walked pass them, he sent a sad look to his former pupil before going down the stairs, followed by his wife, who was in the verge of tears and waved at Feliciano, who sulked in a corner, crying. Lovino slid a hand through his face in anger and Arthur didn't know what to do. This whole situation was beyond him.

" _Close the door_ "

Farah said, once all the passengers were out of the plane and driven away from the tarmac inside of the white van. Arthur nodded and closed the door when he saw the stair being taken away from the plane. Lovino gave his brother a glass of water to calm him down.

"Dad was right about this profession"

Feliciano said with a glimpse of a sad smile in his face, as tears continued to fall down his cheeks. Arthur stopped Farah, who was about to return to First Class. She turned around and with her look, she asked him what the **hell** did he want.

"Excuse me, w-what are you going to do with my passengers?"

Upon seeing that she didn't understand, he tried to translate as much as he could.

" _Them passengers... what you do?_ "

" _Nothing that concerns you_ "

That answered worried Arthur more than it should have, so he slid through the crowded aisle until he got to First Class. Several armed hijackers were enjoying the ample seats and ringing the service bell constantly. Arthur was forced from one place to the other and finally, ended up bringing champagne and caviar to those savages, as Arthur's mind described them.

Feliciano and Lovino had started the dinner service in the Economy cabin, but it wasn't enough for everyone, even though the cabin was not as crowded as it was when they left Athens. Some hijackers snatched the trays from the stewards' hands to eat it themselves standing in the aisle.

They had no manners, and that slightly made Arthur remember Alfred when he ate. That brought tears to his eyes, but he wiped them away quickly before serving the most expensive champagne to one of the rudest hijackers.

* * *

It was also night time over the Mediterranean Sea, where a small American military plane had been circling around Lebanese airspace ever since it was denied permission to land. The Colonel of the Delta Force had tried, by all means, to contact Beirut Tower and land the plane, even though their petition to storm the plane on Lebanese soil, coming directly from the White House, had also been denied almost instantly. They were running out of fuel, so they decided to land in Tel Aviv and have access to Beirut by land.

In the cabin, Matthew and Gilbert were sleeping, but Alfred couldn't close his eyes as he was watching a picture he had taken of Arthur which was in his shaky hands. He tried his best to avoid crying, but he couldn't, once he saw Arthur's beautiful face and he wondered when he would be able to see it again in person. He remembered fondly their last time together before he departed to Europe.

It had been a couple days after the election of Harvey Milk in San Francisco, and so the straight public was not all too tolerant with the homosexual community, even though it had been declassified as a mental illness – thank God for that – so Alfred and Arthur were walking down Central Park, licking their cones of ice cream watching people and dogs go by. Alfred remembered Arthur had got a cone of chocolate ice cream with sprinkles and he had got a simple vanilla one, he would have got the same – with much more sprinkles, mind you – but he didn't want to appear as a glutton in front of the boy he had a crush on, so he decided to play it safe. He had kneeled down to pet a Golden Retriever and caress its' tummy for a couple and Arthur had clearly said, in a grumpy tone, once he was done with the dog and they carried on walking down the stone path:

"You won't touch me with that hand"

Arthur scooted away from Alfred when he, teasingly, tried to touch his face with that dreadful hand, according to the grumpy Englishman. Arthur ran his ice cream over the tip of his lover's nose. Alfred was one of the few "blessed" – we could say – people to be able to lick the tip of their nose, so he did exactly that, tasting the chocolate ice cream with sprinkles, his favourite flavour. Arthur didn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted, so he just laughed with a disgusted face, making Alfred laugh too.

They spotted an almost empty playground and Alfred pulled Arthur towards it. The Englishman, obviously as expected from a proper gentleman, didn't want to go to that playground, but as soon as Alfred forced him into one of the swings and started pushing it, he began enjoying the ride. In no time, the blonde was giggling like a child, showing off that beautiful smile that Alfred loved so much.

"Tell me how much you love me!"

Alfred said, with a smile on his face. Arthur spun his head around, still smiling but with a frown.

"I won't do that, you git!"

"Aw, come on, Artie! You know you want to!"

He yelled and Arthur laughed out loud, looking up at the bright blue sky framed by the tall green trees.

"I love you, git!"

A girl approached them, while Arthur was flying in the air and took out her camera, pointing at them. She yelled at them.

"Hey! Can I take you a picture?"

"Sure!"

Alfred said, happily, but Arthur wasn't thinking the same, as he immediately said:

"No!"

But the girl did it anyways, and she gave the picture to them. Once they had had their fair share of fun in the park, they decided to return to the apartment they had been sharing for over a year and Arthur noticed the way Alfred was looking at the picture in his hands.

"Burn it"

"I love you"

"I hate you"

Arthur said, without taking his eyes off the road and Alfred laughed, leaning his head against the smaller man's shoulder. They walked like that, green leaves falling on their way, framing the perfect scene in Alfred's mind.

"I love you, Artie"

He mumbled before starting to cry. Once he began, he could not stop. His sobs took over the silence in the aircraft. He couldn't wait to get there and save his beloved Brit.

* * *

The plane took off around midnight and most of the passengers were asleep and the crew could not keep their eyes open. Arthur was called to the cockpit by Francis. He had told his Italian flight attendants to have some sleep while he kept an eye on the passengers. He crossed the cabin, avoiding contact with any of the hijackers standing in the aisle. When he arrived at the flight deck, he was mesmerized by the stars in the clear dark sky, there wasn't even a cloud in sight. He focused on Sadiq sitting in the spare seat next to the door with his grenades and his machine gun in hand and with that annoying smile in his face.

"Hello...?"

"Arthur"

He said without looking at him, his eyes fixed on the night sky through the windshield. Sadiq clicked his tongue and nodded, looking down at the floor.

"Pretty name"

Sadiq said, thoughtfully, repeating the name over and over inside his head. Francis turned around, ignoring Sadiq and addressed to Arthur. He was worried for his passengers back there, but he was even more worried for the passengers that had been forced off the plane during their stay at Beirut, although he was glad they had left that city.

"How is everything back there?"

Arthur sighed, but he didn't want to show weakness in front of the terrorist, even if said man was a nice person... who was carrying more weapons than Fort Knox.

"Everything's alright. Most of the passengers are asleep"

"And what about Feliciano and Lovino?"

"They are asleep, too"

There was a moment of silence in the cockpit that was only interrupted by the sound of the roaring engines, then, Francis laughed and everyone turned to look at him in awe. Nobody had any idea of why was he laughing, given that the whole situation was not laughable at all. Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.

"What are you laughing at?"

Francis stopped laughing gradually and wiped the tears from his eyes. He looked up at Arthur.

"You used to be the "Iron Lady" of the pursers, and now, you let your flight attendants **sleep** during their work hours. That's an amazing change"

Arthur huffed and exited the cockpit with a loud slam of the door. Sadiq smiled.

"He didn't seem to happy"

Outside, in the First Class lounge, and laying over the cockpit door, Arthur thought back to what Francis had said and the Italian brothers sleeping while twelve armed men were on board the plane with an unknown destination...

... and he couldn't help but laugh too.

* * *

I'm sorry this chapter is a little short, but I couldn't think of anything else, I hope you like it, nevertheless.


	6. Memories

I want to personally thank Amelia F for her continuous support through reviews that... I don't know why they are not shown here, only three of them appear, but I have a lot – well, not a lot but much more than that – in my e-mail account. Anyways, thanks, dear. This next chapter is for you.

* * *

He laughed, but he cried, too, and thank God nobody saw him in that state, given that some hijackers were asleep in the First Class cabin, but most of them were in the aisle of Economy. One of the terrorists that were enjoying the drink service, Sahir al-Hamawi, a refugee in Syria that had been a follower to the Palestinian cause ever since he was twelve and learned to handle a weapon, approached Arthur and put his hand over his shoulder, lowering his head so he could be on the short flight attendant's level.

"Don't worry"

He also spoke good English and could make himself understandable to the crew, which was crucial in a hijack of an American or British airliner. Arthur raised his head to stare into the deep brown eyes of the terrorist. He was very handsome and, under different circumstances, he could have even considered him attractive and – as Feliks would say – a "hunk".

"We won't hurt any of you if you cooperate; we just want to recover the lands where our ancestors had lived for decades and this is the only way for the imperialist State of Israel and its allies in the western world to negotiate with us. I promise you that, once our demands have been met, you will all be released"

That didn't calm Arthur at all because he, despite not knowing much about that subject, he was sure that the foreign policy of both Israel and the United States consisted in not negotiating with terrorists, even when 180 lives were in jeopardy somewhere over the Middle East. Arthur sucked in a deep breath and smiled the way he was taught to do while training as a flight attendant. He left the First Class cabin and squeezed through the hijackers standing in the aisle until he got to the rear galley, where the Vargas brothers where sleeping on the jump seat.

Arthur smiled sadly at them and poured himself a glass of water when Lovino woke up and got up from the seat, carefully strapping his brother in so he wouldn't fall if there was turbulence. Arthur offered him another glass of water, but he rather had orange juice, so he poured himself a glass.

"How is everything in the cockpit?"

Lovino asked while Arthur poured himself another glass of water, their backs to each other in the small galley. The blonde flight attendant sighed.

"Everything's alright, I guess. The captain is still a git, even with everything that's going on. The other pilots look as if they don't exist and Sadiq is there with them"

Lovino turned around, confused. He rested his body against the counter.

"Sadiq? Who the hell is that?"

Now, Arthur turned around to face the Italian flight attendant.

"The leader of the hijackers who came on board in Beirut"

"Oh... you call them by their name? I just call them bastards"

Arthur chuckled and turned his back at Lovino, drinking his water. Lovino sipped on his hardly cold orange juice, casting a glance at his sleeping brother.

"You swear too much"

Arthur said, half amused and half serious. Lovino hummed, his mouth full of juice. He left the half empty glass in the counter, noticing that it didn't even move. The engines were so smooth.

"You know I had a boyfriend that thought that was sexy"

Lovino said nonchalantly and Arthur turned around. He never figured Lovino to be gay, but, then again, when he came out of the closet to his family back in the United Kingdom, they were pretty surprised and pissed off. That's when he decided to apply for a job that would keep him as far away from them as it could. Lovino quickly realised what he had said and tried to cover it up.

"I meant "girlfriend"... a girlfriend thought that was sexy"

"Don't mind it. I have a boyfriend, too. His name is Alfred, he is an American... and he might just be on his way"

He said, jokingly but with hope in his eyes. Lovino sighed and looked down at his feet which kept shifting from side to side. He then admitted that he had had a boyfriend back when he was stationed in Rome, but upon moving to the United States, they had to break it up because he – Lovino – didn't believe in long-distance relationships nor did he think they should exist. He had been pretty battered by their breakup, so he had given up on men completely and was trying to see how many women could he bang in one year, he was trying to establish a record. Arthur had laughed loudly at that.

They stood in the galley, talking, while half of the plane was sleeping and flying to an unknown destination. Lovino was sipping on his juice and Arthur his water when he got an idea and put a finger in the air. He grabbed two tiny bottles of vodka and gave one to Arthur, who looked at it like if it was something from outer space.

"Don't judge me, fairy boy, it helps me relax"

He poured Arthur a glass of juice and the liquor inside before giving it to the Brit, who inspected it before taking a sip, cringing at the strong taste, but, upon looking around at the situations they were in, he drank it all in one sip. Lovino was impressed and perhaps he had judged his stern Chief Steward wrong upon the first impression.

He enjoyed drinking, but he didn't want to get drunk, especially with a hijacker in the cockpit and a dozen in the First Class cabin – that's right, they'd cleared the Economy cabin, luckily – but, under the circumstances, getting drunk would make the situation a little more bearable.

He remembered fondly the first time Alfred had got drunk and he had stayed sober. Shocking, right?

It was the morning of the 25th of December 1976 and outside the window of their apartment, they both could see the snow falling from the dark skies and covering New York City in a thick fluffy layer of white. The windows and any glass surface of the apartment were fogged due to the heat provided by the chimney. Arthur had been recently initiated in the Jones-Williams family tradition of wearing matching red and white sweaters decorated with red maple leafs over the white stripes and white stars over the red ones. Arthur had thought it was cute on the inside, but on the outside, he had to maintain his stone façade, so he said, upon presented with his sweater as a Christmas present:

"Oh, poppycock. I won't wear **that**!"

Arthur said, waving his hand in the air. Alfred whined like a child and Arthur just rolled his eyes. Matthew paid no attention to his childish brother and addressed to the grumpy Englishman.

"Oh, come on, Arthur. You'll look so good in this. I promise"

"He would look better without anything at all"

Alfred mock-whispered, for which both Arthur and Matthew smacked him across the head causing him to whine, again, like a small child that had just been hit by the boy he was playing with in the park. Arthur sighed and grabbed the damn thing.

"Ok, I will put it on, but don't laugh!"

He went out of the living room and into the bedroom, where they had some kind of boudoir with a mirror in which Arthur looked at himself after taking off his vest and putting on the hideous sweater. He sighed, once again, and adventured out, where they twins laid.

"How do I look?"

Arthur asked. He was met with mesmerizing smiles and Alfred came over to him, embraced him and planted a kiss on his cheek, taking him completely by surprise. He turned around, still in Alfred's arms and looked up at his lover's handsome face and striking blue eyes behind those cute glasses.

"Why was that for?"

The American answered with his ever present satisfied smile on his face. Matthew admired fondly the happy couple and wished he could have that with someone someday... perhaps Gilbert would be a candidate. Oh, forget it. That would never happen.

"You looked so cute with that, I couldn't resist"

That simple statement made Arthur blush profusely, tinting his pale face with red. He looked at Matthew and then pecked Alfred's lips, now surprising the younger man. Arthur sighed, for the third time in that morning, and looked down at the carpeted floor.

"I kind of feel bad for what I'm going to give you as a present"

Alfred was confused, and so was Matthew. Arthur wiggled out of his lover's grasp and went over to a tall and neatly wrapped box with a bow on top laying underneath the beautifully decorated Christmas tree. He gave it to Alfred with a sheepish expression on his face. Alfred took it and sat down on the floor, unwrapping his present like an excited child, not minding Arthur's warning.

"This is a bottle"

He said, flatly, upon seeing what was inside of the box. Indeed, it was a black bottle with a golden wrapping on top. He took it out and read something he couldn't understand. Arthur noticed and read it for him.

"It's a bottle of Dom Pérignon, the most expensive champagne there is... you... you told me that you never had alcohol in your entire life, so I decided to bring you this. The best in the market, just for you"

Arthur kissed his nose. Matthew got up from his seat, excitedly whilst Alfred kept sitting with his legs spread open and the box with the champagne inside in the middle of them. Arthur was afraid that he had got him the wrong gift.

"Perfect, I'll bring the glasses"

Matthew went into the kitchen while Arthur kept looking at his disappointed lover, so he kneeled down and whispered something in his ear that cheered Alfred up immediately; something that is not going to be a part of this story, obviously. When Matthew returned with the champagne glasses, Alfred was nervous, he had heard that alcohol was bitter, but Arthur seemed to like it and so did Matthew, only that his brother drank wine whilst his boyfriend was fond of beer... **very** fond of beer.

Arthur uncorked the bottle and poured a bit into the three glasses. Matthew drank it first, slowly, savouring it and moaning at the taste. He had never had something so delicious and expensive in his tongue, but Arthur had, quite a few times in the past. Alfred drank it nervously, expecting a strong and bitter taste, but, instead, he felt something delicious travelling through his mouth and his eyes opened wide at the new sensation.

"Oh my God! This is delicious!"

Both Matthew and Arthur giggled and, in no time, they were passing the bottle back and forth between the three of them and the room was growing hotter by every drop they had. They had all taken off their sweaters and Alfred had unbuttoned his shirt down to his navel, which made Arthur mentally lick his lips.

"Well, whaddaya say we dance the Conga!? I'm bored!"

Alfred said, at the top of his voice, standing up and opening his arms wide. Matthew laughed unceremoniously whilst Arthur was starting to feel a little tipsy.

"C'mon! Ain't cha-cha coming out t-tonight?"

While Alfred continued to dance to the old Izumi Yukimura song over the dinner table, causing his brother to laugh loudly, Arthur received a call from the Department of Flight Planning telling him he was on the red-eye special to Honolulu...

... Come to think of it, Arthur remembered a few little moments where Alfred and his' relationship hadn't been interrupted by his work. Now, after a couple drinks with Lovino in the galley, he thought that, if they made it out of this situation safe and sound, he would never let his work get between him and Alfred. Never again.

* * *

General Honda, son of Japanese immigrants that had not yet quite lost his accent and mannerisms, was talking with the Colonel through the phone from the Pentagon, where he had summoned an emergency meeting to deal with the crisis of the hijacked airliner upon finding out about the news. He was currently telling the Colonel that the hostages liberated in Beirut and the two men in the hospital were being transported to Tel Aviv, where they had landed a couple hours ago. The men were currently in their hotel rooms, ready to meet with Israeli commandoes the following morning.

Alfred kissed Arthur's face in the picture, which he left in his bedside table before drifting off to sleep mumbling the following words:

"I'm coming to get you, Artie... I'm coming..."

Suddenly, he found himself staring up to the clear blue sky. There was no cloud in sight, but several kites of different colours and the laughter of children playing around could be heard, and a small summer breeze ruffled his hairs, which were being put back in place by Arthur, who was staring down at him with fondness in his beautiful emerald eyes. It was one of the few times that the Brit was not being his usual sassy and grumpy self, even though Alfred loved him when he was like that, because he was even more difficult to charm and he had to work harder. And that was because they were having a picnic at the Champs de Mars in Paris, his lover's favourite city in the world, the city where he felt at home.

Alfred had got to Paris using Arthur's buddy pass in the same flight he was working in. They had exchanged cute smiles and glances all over the flight, when Arthur went to the cockpit to serve the pilots, as Alfred was travelling in the cockpit due to the whole plane being full of passengers in both cabins. Later on, when they landed at Charles de Gaulle, he had gone on and on of how he loved being in the cockpit during takeoff and landing. He said it had been "an awesome experience"... and it had, even if the captain had to shut him up several times during the security checks on the ground.

The following day to their arrival, they went to have a picnic at the Champs de Mars – as explained earlier – where Alfred was laying over Arthur's lap while he sang him a lullaby which always helped him get to sleep.

"... And do I dream again, for now I find..."

Alfred smiled tiredly at Arthur and, then, fell asleep. The last thing he felt was his tender lips against his forehead and a sweet:

"Sweet dreams, my lovely git"

Alfred smiled with his eyes closing and drifted off into dreamland until he was woken up by slender fingers running softly through his locks. He woke up, startled by that fact only to see Arthur sitting next to him in his hotel room bed, looking down at him fondly with those sparkling emerald eyes.

"Art-"

Arthur put a finger over his lips, effectively shutting him up, and continued to stroke his hair with such affection. Alfred was falling asleep again.

Arthur lulled him back to sleep, and when he awoke the next morning, he wasn't there anymore.

He knew he had to get him back, one way or the other.


	7. Algiers

Before starting this chapter, I want to thank all the silent readers who enjoy this story and, also, those who review, favourite and follow it, because you give me the strength to continue writing it and I try as hard as I can to make it good for you, boys and girls. Also, a little side note: I didn't know Monaco's name, so I made it up and I'm making them French in this story.

* * *

Alfred was the first one to sit down at the empty conference room at around half past one in the morning, after having slept less than half an hour, with a cup of coffee in his hand. The conference room was not empty per se, as the Colonel was there, waiting for connection with General Honda from Washington. Finally, after waiting at least fifteen minutes and the arrival of both Matthew and Gilbert, the Japanese-American general appeared on the screen, with his usual emotionless yet stern expression and his impeccable uniform. It was obvious to the four men in the room that he hadn't slept ever since the crisis began.

"Good morning, gentlemen. We have been informed that the hijacked aircraft just crossed Lebanese airspace heading west over the Mediterranean Sea, so it's probable that they will land either in Libya or Algeria. We haven't had a response from the Libyan government, but President Boumediene is ready to cooperate, so we are sending you to Algiers. Let's hope that's where the plane is heading. The Delta team is on its way"

"Thank you, General"

"Due to the amount of French citizens on board, and with the avail of the Algerian government, Lieutenant LaGarde of the GIGN would send his son's, Major LaGarde, division with their best men, apparently the Lieutenant's daughter, Mademoiselle LaGarde, was on board at the time of the hijack and has not been released in Beirut"

Matthew was quite pleased with knowing that the GIGN would also be involved in the rescue of the hostages. He was always thrilled to work with people from other nations and perhaps they could give them tips on how to handle the situation, as they had been in the business longer than the Delta Force.

"We'll cooperate with them, General. When are they arriving?"

"They will be landing in Algiers in about two hours. You'll be meeting with Major LaGarde at the airport upon your arrival. Good luck. That's all"

The General said before closing communications. The Colonel turned around to face the three best men of his team. Alfred was ready to storm the plane at any time, Matthew was thinking the possibilities of a less violent intervention to negotiate with the terrorists and maybe recover the hostages from their control, and Gilbert was thinking whether he left Mrs. Weatherby enough food for Gilbird back in his apartment in New York.

"You heard the man, boys. We are departing for the airport in half an hour"

Everyone got up and went to get ready for leaving. Alfred couldn't wait to see his loved one again. While walking up the stairs, he recalled a fond memory of them together, in a small, picturesque village in France.

They had been in a hotel, enjoying some quiet – they had to be quiet or else they would have burnt them alive. It was true, they were in France, but they couldn't just flaunt it like it was nothing – couple time and Arthur had decided that he wanted to try a new recipe.

Hey, when in Rome, do as Romans do... and when in France, try to cook without burning the whole town. That was Alfred's thought when Arthur took him grocery shopping to a street market he called _marché_... to Alfred, it was still a street market.

When Arthur's shoelaces got untied, he had to stop in front of a doorstep to tie them up and that left Alfred to tour the market. There were a lot of alive disgusting things like lobsters... Ew. Suddenly, he found a woman yelling and looked around to see that Arthur was gone and he was lost in a damn _marché_.

" _Pour les belles dames et les beaux messieurs ! De bons prix dans tous les étals du marché !''_

She said in a strange language, pulling him towards a stall. He was trying to wiggle out of her grip, but she was too strong.

"No! Help! Does anybody here speak my language?"

Alfred asked frantically to no one in particular, until he felt a small hand over his shoulder and turned around, still in the woman's strong grip.

" _Excusez-moi, madame. Il est Américaine_ "

The woman smiled and Arthur dragged him away from her, who carried on yelling. When they were as far away from the woman as they could be, Arthur whispered at Alfred angrily.

"What the bloody hell are you doing? I told you I was going over to the fruit stall. You never listen!"

He ended up dragging him all across the market – or _marché_ – and Alfred was mesmerized by the softness of Arthur's hand, then when his grasp loosened, he could feel the softness of his hairless arm. When they were done shopping, Alfred was the one to drag Arthur to their hotel room, where he threw him on the bed, leaving the groceries by the door.

Alfred spent all day and all night enjoying the softness of his lover's body.

* * *

On board flight 103, almost everyone was asleep, except for Geneviève LaGarde, the daughter of the prestigious leader of the French GIGN, travelling on vacation to Greece. She was returning to New York after a well-deserved break from her stressful job as a broker in Wall Street. She was hoping to land soon, because she knew that her father – or her brother – would come and save her. How they were going to do that, it was still a mystery for her, but she didn't give up on hope.

She felt a finger tapping her shoulder and she turned to the side, to see Natalia Arlovskaya holding out a miniature bottle of vodka for her, she was sitting on the window seat, one seat apart from Geneviève. She was a Belarusian young woman who was following Toris on her quest to find her stepbrother and love interest Ivan Braginsky. Her pursuit had driven her to that ill-fated flight, and only alcohol could keep her from jumping one of the hijackers.

Geneviève nodded at Natalia in acceptance and took the bottle from her hands. She drank a sip and cringed at the taste, much like Arthur had done when Lovino had prepared those drinks in the galley, hours ago. They noticed that the women were covering their hair and that Arthur was walking up the aisle, speaking to the female passengers, followed by one of the heavily armed hijackers. When he got to their row, he spoke in a very gentle voice.

"Please, cover your hair"

Geneviève quick and emotionless as always, untied her red neckerchief and covered her head with it. Natalia was confused.

"Why do they want that?"

She asked, always defiant. The hijacker glared at her.

" _Do it!_ "

He yelled in Arabic, making Arthur cringe. He addressed her again, trying to calm the hijacker's mood. The truth is that they were discontent with their western customs: men and women sitting together, using the same lavatories and the women wearing their head uncovered. While the plane was under their command, the passengers and crew would have to play by their rules.

"Please, do it. Don't make them mad"

Natalia sighed and covered her hair. Arthur continued his round in the cabin until he reached the last row and went into the galley to meet with his flight attendants. The hijacker that had been following them, left for First Class. Arthur sighed and rested against the door. Lovino was sipping a cup of coffee to keep himself awake and Feliciano was still sleeping, strapped in the jump seat.

"What happened?"

Arthur had been carried out of the galley by the hijacker that had been following in the cabin and dragged to First Class, when he was told, barely, what they wanted him to do and why they wanted **him** to do it.

"They wanted me to make sure the women covered their hair"

"Uh! Then you should cover your head, too"

Arthur glared at him and they both laughed. They had grown to be pretty amiable to each other in that closed environment. They weren't friends, but they now had a good, healthy relationship. Lovino offered him some coffee. Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes, advancing towards the coffee maker.

"Oh, yes, please. I can't be on my feet any longer. I feel like I'm falling asleep standing up"

Lovino chuckled and poured him a cup, while he sipped his lukewarm coffee. He hummed.

"So, tell me about your boyfriend in the states"

Arthur's eyes lit up upon the mere mention of Alfred, of whom he had thought ever since the hijack began. Now he had the chance to speak about him with someone else and he wouldn't waste it. He left the cup on the counter. Upon seeing that Arthur was immersed in his thoughts, he decided to ask.

"How is he... physically?"

"Well, um, he is tall with a very cute smile, blue eyes, blonde hair and glasses that make him look like the smartest person... which he is not"

They both shared a giggle and Arthur sipped his coffee.

"He is somewhat clumsy and infantile, but he is very mature in some situations. He is a very nice lover, he is very considerate... although he is a little self-centred and claims to be a hero so, yeah, he tries to solve any situation and he ends up making it worse than it already was"

Lovino rolled his eyes and sarcastically said.

"Sounds like quite the catch"

Arthur chuckles and finished up his coffee.

"No, really... actually, he... he is the only man I've ever been with"

Lovino raised an eyebrow, sipping his coffee, not taking his eyes off Arthur, who was starting to feel rather uncomfortable for being looked so closely.

"Sexually?"

Lovino asked and Arthur turned red from the neck up.

"W-What the bloody hell is that question?!"

Arthur asked, clearly embarrassed. Lovino nodded to himself: yes, yes it was. Arthur decided to explain.

"No... Yes... I mean, no... Wait! I'm not a harlot..."

"Take it easy, fairy boy, I'm not judging you"

Lovino said, upon sensing Arthur's discomfort on the matter, so he decided to change de subject in order to continue the conversation and entertain himself and get to know his purser, in the meantime. When he was about to talk, Arthur sighed and rested his hands on his knees, his head down. He straightened up suddenly, his messy blonde hair moving wildly.

"I meant he was my first and only lover, so far... a-and I want to keep it that way. Alfred is great, but he is too young for me, and sometimes, I'm afraid he'll notice that and leave me for someone younger and more attractive"

Arthur felt tears forming in his eyes and blinked several times to avoid them from spilling out. Lovino noticed this and rolled his eyes. He hated when people got emotional in front of him, but now he was like seeing a marble statue cry. He never would have imagined that the stone that was Arthur Kirkland, purser of Pan Atlantic Airways flight 103 from Athens via Rome to New York, would crack up in front of someone as Lovino. He sighed and left his cup of coffee on the counter before grabbing Arthur from the shoulders, looking at him straight in the eyes.

"Look, I'm going to feel **really** awkward saying this, but you are attractive. And he is not going to leave you, at all. He – sigh – won't find anything better thank you. I assure you"

Arthur's eyes lit up and he hugged Lovino tightly, making him even more uncomfortable.

"Thank you so much"

Arthur kissed Lovino's cheek, forcing him to pull the Brit away and slip away from his strong embrace. Arthur was still smiling like an idiot and Feliciano was still sleeping... like an idiot.

"Hey, no homo, fairy boy!"

Arthur laughed until he felt something. They were losing speed and the landing gear was down. They were landing God knows where. Lovino noticed too.

"Strap yourself in"

Arthur said before heading into the cabin to tell the passengers to fasten their seatbelts. Lovino sat down next to his brother, and, once everybody else was strapped in – he didn't bother telling the hijackers, he couldn't care less – he sat down in one of the empty seats at the back of the cabin, near the galley. He was slightly scared, he didn't know where the hell they were in but he wouldn't let it show.

He was the Chief Steward, after all, the most high-ranked person in the airplane after the pilots, but under the circumstances, he was ready to put that in jeopardy.

* * *

The military plane landed from Tel Aviv at around three in the morning. In the tower of Houari Boumediene International Airport in Algiers, the air traffic controller turned around, once receiving the confirmation that the plane was on the ground, to face Major LaGarde, a young blonde who was waiting impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor and his arms crossed over his chest. He and his team had arrived several hours ago and had been waiting for the leaders of the Delta Force. The American Ambassador on Algeria was on his way from his residence.

"Major LaGarde, the plane has just landed"

The air traffic controller said in a thick Arabic accent. The major nodded and left the tower without further ado, on his way to the tarmac to meet the Colonel.

"Major LaGarde, I presume. Pleased to meet you"

The Colonel shook hands with LaGarde, as did the rest of the team, introducing themselves. Alfred had a sudden pang in his chest, as the major looked much like Arthur: he was blonde – his hair was neatly coiffed, unlike Arthur's – he was short, perhaps the same height as his lover, but he had the brightest blue eyes one had ever seen, whilst Arthur's were green. He was very pale, he glowed in the lights that illuminated the tarmac.

While they were walking, the major was speaking with the Colonel about the current situation, Alfred, his brother and Gilbert walking behind them.

"I took the liberty to speak with some of the hostages via conference from Tel Aviv and they said that there were two hijackers, a man and a woman, and that they were armed but not too much, just a couple hand grenades and a gun, which the woman was holding. I believe that a rescue operation, carried out well, can be effective and the hostages would be released in no time"

He spoke with an aristocratic French accent. Alfred smiled, that guy surely reminded him of Arthur and his refined manners.

The Colonel and LaGarde continued the talk about how to plan an effective rescue operation on board the plane once it landed and the Delta Team arrived at Algiers and Matthew asked, several times and with no answer coming from his superiors, if they couldn't get to an arrangement with the hijackers to release the hostages. He was always looking for the peaceful solution.

Perhaps that job wasn't for him.

* * *

The feeling inside the cabin of the plane touching down on the runway woke up the majority of sleeping passengers and the crew. Feliciano yawned and rubbed his eyes before getting up when the plane came to a full stop. Arthur and Lovino also got up and headed for the galley. The blonde flight attendant checked his watch.

"It's 3 AM. My God, don't they ever sleep?"

Arthur asked annoyed to no one in particular as he took out a miniature bottle of vodka from the cabinets. Feliciano poked his head out of the galley and looked into the cabin.

"Are they **still** here?"

Feliciano asked, rolling his eyes and with a sigh upon seeing the hijackers in First Class through the open curtain.

"No, they are their stupid brothers"

Lovino said sarcastically before pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

"Really?"

Feliciano asked curiously. Lovino sighed and rolled his eyes before answering his dumb question.

"No! Only **I** have a stupid brother!"

Lovino said angrily before smacking Feliciano over the head. Arthur rolled his eyes and, when he was about to drink the vodka, Natalia appeared in the galley and snatched it out of the flight attendant's hand.

"Thank you, I needed it"

She looked at the glass of orange juice Lovino was holding in his hand and snatched it also.

"Even better"

She walked out of the galley, mixing up her drinks, leaving the three dumbfounded stewards. Apparently, alcohol was the only thing that could lighten the mood in such a situation and everybody knew it.


	8. Release

Don't worry, ShiZayaUsUkSinJa, I promise I won't stop posting if you like it so much. I'm glad you liked it, and I'm glad everybody that has commented liked it as much as I do. Also, there is going to be a little singing in this chapter and the lyrics will be in Italics. Thank you for reading, as always.

* * *

Heracles Karpusi was not a common man. From his early school years in a small town near Athens, he knew that he wanted more than the other kids wanted for their lives. He didn't want to be rich or see the beauty the world had to offer, he didn't even want to go to Athens. He wanted to see the world in his own particular way, from the eyes of a priest. He wanted to help the people and that's why, upon his transfer to Beirut, decided to work as an undercover agent for the Mossad, the Israeli intelligence service. It wasn't the safest job, especially after the war broke out in Lebanon, but he was happy in life, in his little stone church overlooking the Mediterranean Riviera.

The quietness of his life was interrupted when he heard several vehicles pulling up in front of an old shielded building, across the street from his church. He slowly walked out to the entrance and saw how several heavily armed men opened the doors from inside and others pushed around a group of very well-dressed men and women. One of the women fell to the floor on the sidewalk and, who seemed to be her husband, picked her up gently before they were both shoved inside the building and the doors closed loudly.

Heracles had thought about it until he received a message directly from Tel Aviv telling him about a hijacked airplane and believed that they could be hostages, because they didn't look like Lebanese people. He informed them about the incident, but received a non-conclusive answer. There had been no report of missing people on the plane from the hostages released, but one could never be sure in these situations, so they told him to keep an eye on them. Frequently, he had seen armed men entering and leaving the building, so he suspected that something was up, but during a civil war, several men joined the militias and was a common sight, sadly, in the streets of Beirut.

He felt bad for those poor people, held captive by those armed men. He looked up and saw the doors at the balcony being opened to reveal a woman. She was very beautiful and had a white shawl over her hair and a light blue skirt suit. The little bits of her hair that were shown, looked dishevelled and stuck to her skin, revealing that she had endured the heat in a closed environment for several hours. That had been a very hot day.

Night had come and the woman or the hostages were nowhere to be seen, so Heracles decided to retire to bed and call it a day, but he was informed by the Israelis that the hijacked airliner had taken off from Beirut and was heading to an unknown destination.

* * *

Farah had left the plane along with the Jews and the Israeli passengers in Beirut, and she had taken them to their headquarters, only two hours away from the refugee camps they had grown up in. She was in charge of the hostages until they were released when their demands were met by the governments of Israel, France and Germany, which had imprisoned several of their Party members in the past.

She was smoking a cigarette in the balcony, enjoying the nightly breeze, overlooking the Greek Orthodox little church and the cemetery by the sea. She didn't trust that Father Karpusi. She never trusted any Christians she met in her life, and of course, she hadn't met many, but still. If she could make that church and that priest blow up, she would.

In the room where the hostages had been held for almost an entire day, the heat had grown less unbearable than it had been during the day. As the passengers in the plane, the Jewish hostages had to bear that suffocating heat during their stay at Lebanon, the difference was that they had to endure a longer time in Beirut than them. They wondered. Had the plane left Lebanon? Had the other hostages been set free? When would **they** be set free? What would happen to them?

Gal woke up from a terrifying nightmare, alerting her husband, who put a hand over her shoulder and caressed her hair, sitting up from the floor, where they were sleeping.

"Are you okay, darling?"

Gal couldn't articulate before bursting into tears. Her husband hugged her and the crying noises alerted the other hostages, who woke up from their light sleep. One couldn't sleep in that situation, even if he was sedated. They were just too nervous for that. Elisabetta spoke up, holding her husband's hand to keep him from whining.

"Um... what is your name?"

She asked, sensing the mood. Gal looked at her with tears in her eyes and tear tracks running down her cheeks, she was sobbing. Her husband looked at her too. Roderick was laying down, looking up at his wife from the floor. They had been captive for almost an entire day, but they hardly knew each other.

"Gal... my name is Gal Ben Mizrahi"

She said, her voice cut by sobs. Elisabetta smiled sadly, she could relate with what she was feeling. If it weren't for her husband, she would have spent the whole day crying, but she had to be strong for him. It was no joke when people said that she was the man of the relationship. It was kind of funny, but true.

"Well, Gal, my name is Elisabetta Edelstein and this is my husband, Roderick"

Elisabetta said, with the sweetest voice she could muster, pointing at her husband. Josef lovingly wiped the tears from his wife's eyes slowly with a handkerchief he was keeping in his jacket pocket. Roderick sat up. Josef introduced himself.

"I'm Josef Ben Mizrahi"

"Pleased to meet you"

They both shook hands and Elisabetta smiled. The other two men introduced themselves too, and now they knew a little more about each other than they did before. Elisabetta clapped her hand, unusually happy for that situation.

"Well, now that we know everybody, what do you say if we all sing a song to cheer ourselves up a little?"

Everybody looked at her like if she was crazy, but the Josef thought about it deeply. Perhaps singing would keep her from feeling so bad, so he spoke up with a thoughtful expression on his face, his beard starting to grow.

"I don't think that's a bad idea"

Roderick looked at Josef, confused as to why would anyone agree with his crazy wife, then looked at said person then back at the Israeli man. He sighed and looked down at his lap.

"Perhaps it isn't"

Then Elisabetta began singing softly, to avoid anyone from outside hearing them, even though there was a thick heavy metal door keeping them apart from the Palestinians outside.

 _Hava Nagila_

 _Hava Nagila_

"Come on, you know the song. I had a hard time learning it because I don't speak Hebrew, but you all do, so let's sing"

Elisabetta said before being joined by a sobbing Gal, who tentatively sang the next verse.

 _H-Hava Nagila venismejá_

They were joined by the two other men from the background.

 _Hava neranená_

 _Hava neranená_

 _Hava neranená venismejá_

Josef joined them and soon they were all happy and the mood had lighten, because they all had smiles in his faces, except for Roderick, who had internally refused to sing. His wife kept poking him in the arm while she sang.

 _Uru, uru ajim_

 _Uru ajim belev sameaj_

Roderick rolled his eyes and decided to join them, just for the sake of doing something for his wife, instead of she doing all the work in their relationship. They were all clapping, singing and smiling widely.

 _Uru ajim, uru ajim_

 _Belev sameaj_

They were suddenly interrupted when the door opened and a very rude man entered, gun in hand.

"Be quiet!"

He spoke in a thick Arabic accent before closing the door loudly. The six people inside looked at each other and chuckled. After all, if they were going to be in there for a while, they had to make the situation better.

* * *

Back in Algiers, the American Ambassador, who had just arrived at the airport, was trying to negotiate with Sadiq through the radio, the release of all women and children, but there was no way the hijacker would do such thing if his plane was not refuelled immediately. The ambassador knew he had to make time until the Delta Team arrived and the GIGN had a complete panorama of the situation, as they only had the version of the hostages released in Beirut. They were making a plan in base of that.

"Please, Mr. Adnan, you have to understand. The airport authorities won't allow the fuel tanker to get near the airport until they know that, at least, the women and children are safe"

There was a long silence that was made even longer. The Colonel and Major LaGarde were also waiting for an answer through the radio, but there was nothing for fifteen long minutes.

"This is impossible, at this rate, we are going to have to storm the plane with all the passengers on board and that would be a disaster"

In the cockpit of the Boeing 707, Arthur, who had entered to bring the pilots coffee after a long night, had heard the entire conversation and turned to look at Sadiq, who was still sitting in the spare seat by the open door with a pensive expression on his face, but with no determination to speak. Silence reigned through the cabins.

"For Heaven's sake, man, don't you have a family? Wouldn't you want your mother, your wife or your sister to be free in this situation? Can't you think of other people rather than you for a moment?"

Arthur asked angrily, surprising the pilots and Sadiq. Francis turned around upon hearing his voice and nodding his head with a smile on his face, silently congratulating Eyebrows for his braveness. As he had spoken loudly in the cockpit, both the hijackers of the First Class cabin and some passengers of the Economy section could hear him and felt proud to have such a brave purser, especially the women. Sadiq got up from his seat and stood face to face with Arthur, he was way taller and broader than him, but that didn't intimidate the flight attendant. His ever-present smile was gone, replaced by an angry expression on his face.

"Alright... but just women and children"

Sadiq left the cockpit. Francis sighed in release and told the air traffic controller that he would release women and children in exchange of fuel. Back in the tower, the Ambassador looked at the Colonel, who shook his head.

"We need to keep that plane in the ground, at least, until the Delta Team arrives"

He said, the Ambassador looked surprised and quite pissed.

"We just told them that we would give them fuel. How are we supposed to keep them in the ground?"

Major LaGarde turned to the Colonel.

"There is no way, Colonel. They intend to leave a soon as they can. If we want to storm the plane, now it's the time"

The Colonel sighed. Alfred, who was there with them, was worried for his Artie, as always ever since this whole ordeal began.

"Just give me time to speak to one of the hostages. Then we will a whole panorama of the situation and we can act based in that"

"Fair enough"

LaGarde said. The Colonel left the tower, motioning Alfred to follow him. Matthew and Gilbert were done explaining the rescue operation to the members of the GIGN. Well, mostly Matthew because he spoke French. Sometimes, Gilbert's hand would "accidentally" rub against Matthew's, causing them a deep blush.

"Sorry"

Gilbert would say, his pale face redder than Matthew's, who just smiled at him. The members of the GIGN looked at each other like what the hell was going on, but carried on anyways.

" _Bien, c'est le plan. Questions?_ "

Matthew asked, but no one answered, meaning that it had been clear enough. He smiled sadly. He didn't want to storm the plane, he wanted a more pacific solution, but if that was the only way, he knew that they couldn't negotiate with blood-thirsty terrorists.

He just wanted everyone to be safe, and he wasn't sure that this was the way.

* * *

Sadiq took the interphone and addressed the passengers, whose heads had been forced down once again by the other hijackers who were standing on the Economy aisle.

"Ladies and children, Allah be praised. It's time to leave the airplane. Thank your purser, Mr. Kirkland, for that. Men will stay in their seats"

Some women cried of joy and other hugged their husbands, brothers, fathers, etc. The hijackers on the aisle began ushering the women up from their seats.

"Oh my God, we are saved!"

Some took their carryon luggage and some just wanted to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. The stairs were put on the First Class cabin and Arthur opened the door for the women to exit. Some kissed him in the cheek and thanked him. In his seat in the first row, Vash was thinking back of his sister, Lilly, and how would they be treating her. Geneviève got up from her seat, still covering her hair and grabbed Natalia's hand.

"Come on"

They both went, hand in hand, even though they didn't know each other, to the First Class cabin and left the airplane as quickly as they could. The American Ambassador was on the tarmac, waiting for the hostages and Major LaGarde was in the car, to avoid being seen by the hijackers. He had described his sister to the ambassador, who immediately spotted her.

"Mademoiselle LaGarde?"

He asked Geneviève. She nodded, looking up at him with an emotionless face as always.

"Please come with me"

He opened the door for her and she saw her brother, who was smiling at her. Like his sister, Michel LaGarde wasn't expressive on his feelings, but upon seeing his sister safe and sound, he felt a pang in his chest. She got in the car and hugged her brother. The ambassador got in too and the car left the tarmac.

Little did she know that they were planning on storming the airplane as soon as all the women were safe in the Terminal, and little did they know about the hostages in Beirut and the other twelve hijackers who had come on board.

It was going to be a massacre.


	9. Raid

I don't know how the plane's boarding stairs with the little car underneath are called so I'm just calling them "movable boarding stairs", although I think that is a very different thing, I don't know. I want to, as always, thank my silent readers and those who review. You are all very special to me and have a place in my heart 3.

* * *

The plan was underway: the GIGN group was divided in three equitable sections; the first section corresponded to Alfred and the second to Matthew, they would both lead the way for storming the plane through the back entrances mounted over the movable boarding stairs, advancing on the aircraft's blind point, the tail. Gilbert had the third section, disguised as airport maintenance behind the tanker, they would wait on the tarmac and receive the signal from Alfred and then retransmit it to the tower to turn off the airport's lights. Everything was set and the Colonel was waiting for the go-ahead from General Honda, who, in turn, was waiting for the go-ahead from the president.

When the women and children were taken on the bus to the Terminal and the doors were closed, the three sections received the Colonel's green light. Matthew's most feared moment materialized in that second when the three captains heard the voice of the Colonel through their radios.

"Jones, it's a go"

Alfred clicked his tongue and looked at his brother, who was crouched on the stair next to his, followed by a group of heavily armed professional men. He addressed his fellow captains.

"Show starts in 30 seconds, boys. Radios off the air"

"Roger, 30 seconds, mark"

Both Matthew – with a shaky but determined voice – and Gilbert said, before closing communications. The clock was ticking and their hearts were beating fast. Alfred didn't want to do anything to hurt Arthur, but he didn't know what he would do if his lover got between him and one of the armed hijackers.

He didn't want to think about it, but it was possibility.

* * *

The ambassador had decided to stay in the tower to try to negotiate with the hijackers the release of more hostages while the Colonel was expecting a call from Major LaGarde, telling him that he and his sister were already in the passengers' lounge in the second floor of the airport, waiting for him to interview her, as the major little did know about the operation. When the call came, the Colonel went rushing to the room, where he found the LaGarde siblings. Geneviève was uncovering her hair and Michel was looking out the windows at the plane.

"Colonel, this is my sister, Geneviève"

"Pleased to meet you, miss..."

The Colonel said, going in for a kiss in her hand before she interrupted him abruptly and with no manners whatsoever, something that one would not expect from such a socialite, but she was quite prissy with her language so she corrected him.

"Mademoiselle, please"

The Colonel sighed and sat down next to Geneviève, who was twirling her gloves in her hand nervously. She wasn't used to be nervous, so she didn't like this situation she had been dragged in by her brother.

"This is only going to take a minute"

Geneviève was now looking at him strangely and at her brother.

"What's happening?"

She asked, looking through the windows at the illuminated plane.

"They are going to storm the plane"

Suddenly, the lights in the runways, the tarmac and the tower were turn off and everything sulked in the darkness outside of the windows. Geneviève, in an unusual display of emotions for her, grabbed the Colonel's hands in her own, looking into his eyes.

"Oh no, you mustn't! All the hostages in Beirut will be killed!"

"What hostages in Beirut?"

* * *

Alfred looked at his watch, so did Matthew and Gilbert, and immediately knew that it was Showtime. The stairs began moving towards the plane in the darkness. Inside the plane, most specifically in the cockpit with the pilots, Sadiq was getting nervous upon seeing that the airport had turned off its lights.

" _What the hell happened?"_

He said in Arabic before going into the cabin, leaving the pilots wandering, too, what the hell had happened.

* * *

The Colonel was now worried with this new information he had received, and so was LaGarde. They knew the plan was underway and that was the scariest part.

"The Jews they took off the plane when the other hijackers came on board"

The Colonel got up from his seat and Michel turned around from the windows, where he was clearly seeing the stairs moving towards the plane from behind.

" _Mon Dieu!_ We have to stop this at once!"

Both he and the Colonel left the lounge quickly, leaving a dumbfounded Geneviève behind. They needed to make contact with Alfred or Matthew as soon as they could, but they knew that, at that point, they would have closed communications.

* * *

Inside the cabin, the noise of the approaching staircases was not as quiet as the Colonel had thought. The hijackers realised something was up and they started yelling and running to the back, alarming the passengers and the crew. Sadiq headed to the rear galley, armed with a machine gun and several grenades in his belt, followed by the other heavily armed men. He pushed Arthur out of the way, throwing him in the arms of a young man.

They pushed Feliciano against the door and told him to open it. When he did, it was like all hell had broken loose. They started shooting against the quickly approaching men in the staircases.

The driver of Alfred's staircase had been shot in the head through the glass which caused him to drop the wheel and collide against Matthew's. One of the hijackers threw a grenade which exploded near them. Both stairs flipped over, throwing all men on the tarmac, who tried to shield themselves from the bullet shower.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

He screamed at his unit just when a grenade fell near them. He knew that if he let it explode under the aircraft, there was the risk of the fuel tanks exploding and the plane catching fire, killing several of the passengers and crew on board, including his beloved Arthur, who had pulled his flight attendants out of the galley and brought them to First Class.

"I'm deaf!"

Feliciano yelled at Arthur and his brother while he was being dragged down the aisle. Arthur turned around and yelled back.

"But you are alive!"

Sadiq pushed them aside, making them fall over the empty First Class seats. Lovino got up so angry that his face was red, even though he was more scared than Feliciano, who was crying in a corner.

"What the hell is wrong with you, pushing us aside like if we were **fucking** rag dolls!?"

Sadiq smacked him across the face with his gun making Feliciano scream. He ran into the cockpit and pointed his gun at the back of Francis' head, screaming and yelling.

"Take off, now!"

Francis sighed. The explosion nearby, on the tarmac, shook the airplane violently.

"Checklist"

He said, looking at his instrument panel. Sadiq was looking nervously back and forth. He grabbed the radio.

"Engine ignition, number 4"

The Second Officer said while igniting the fourth engine from the instrument panel above the pilots' heads, slowly, much to Sadiq's dismay.

The Colonel and LaGarde approached the tarmac on an airport vehicle. The place reminded them of warzone, with the plane taxiing to the runway for takeoff and flames engulfing his team. Matthew had managed to evacuate his unit from the tarmac and take them to a safe place, but Alfred was lost between the flames. There was a second explosion that shook the entire airport.

Matthew feared for his brother.

* * *

Arthur grabbed tightly the armrest of his seat in First Class and closed his eyes, while hearing the engines accelerating and the sirens in the background. He peeked through the window and saw a ball of fire lifting up into the evening sky. He pulled down the curtain and pinched the bridge of his nose. That had been an utterly terrifying experience and hoped and begged to every God or deity of every religion on Earth that Alfred hadn't been involved in that, and if he had, he hoped he was okay.

Arthur got up from his seat and went over to the Vargas brothers. Feliciano was trying to get his brother to recover conscience after the terrible blow he had received, but he couldn't do anything. Arthur put his hand over the Italian flight attendant's small shoulder.

"Fasten your seatbelt and hold him tight"

He went to check if the other passengers had their seatbelts on. They had their heads in their hands, protecting themselves from what had happened only minutes ago. It had been quite the experience, but Arthur – and he was sure, most of the passengers on board and the flight crew – was disappointed that it hadn't turned out well.

"Excuse me, what just happened?"

One of the passengers asked him when he was doing the seatbelt check, grabbing his arm. He didn't know what to say back to him, so he just told him the truth, or at least what little he knew about it.

"They tried to rescue us, but failed"

The passenger sighed and looked down.

"I can see that"

Arthur smiled sadly as he continued his round in the cabin. When he got to the rear galley, crowded with men speaking in Arabic, he tried to grab a small bottle of vodka so Feliciano could put some droplets in his brother's tongue and perhaps he would wake up, but he was taken from behind by one of the hijackers he recognised to be the Syrian one. He pointed a gun at his head and he closed his eyes tightly when he was pulled flush against the man's body.

"I restrain myself from killing you to prove your friends that they were wrong in attacking us. If I could I would. You are lucky. _Fucking faggot_ "

He insulted him in Arabic, although Arthur could understand what he had said. He then pushed him against the last row of seats, where a passenger tried to prevent him from falling down again. He thanked him and returned to First Class.

"Put this under his tongue"

He said before strapping himself in the row next to them. In the cockpit, the pilots were done with the checklist and were now positioned for takeoff in the runway.

"Boumediene Tower, this is Pan Atlantic 103, requesting permission for takeoff"

Francis said through the radio, but Sadiq put his gun against the back of his head, pushing him forward forcefully. He spoke, through clenched teeth, in his hear, loud enough for the other pilots to hear.

"Takeoff, don't mind the tower"

* * *

The Colonel had arrived at the tower as fast as he could and addressed the air traffic controller that was handling flight 103. Major LaGarde had stayed in the tarmac to make a head count of his team.

"I want that runway blocked. Now!"

He said, rather, yelled before the controller could answer Francis' calls. He grabbed the phone and called again the emergency services that had been working on the runway. He spoke in Arabic.

" _All emergency services proceed to runway 05/23 immediately. I repeat, all emergency services to runway 05/23 immediately"_

The Colonel heard the sirens of those emergency vehicles that were not working on putting off the fire heading for the runway. He heard the captain's voice through the radio.

"Tower, acknowledge...!"

He was interrupted by the voice of Sadiq, yelling in Arabic at the air traffic controller.

" _Let us takeoff or blood will be shed! American blood!"_

The Colonel approached the controller upon hearing the voice of the hijacker.

"What does he say?"

The controller turned around to face him.

"He says that he will kill an American if we don't let him takeoff"

In the cockpit, Sadiq, who was a little familiar with the concept of flying, mostly the manoeuvres for takeoff and landing, pushed the throttles all the way forward as the emergency vehicles blocked the runway. Francis tried to pull his hand off, but he was too strong for the pilot.

"What are you doing, _imbécile_?! You will kill us all!"

The plane was rolling faster and faster by the second and getting dangerously close to the red and yellow vehicles stationed on the runway. Both pilots tried to pull Sadiq's hand off the throttles, but couldn't. In the First Class cabin, Arthur saw the commotion in the cockpit and went in there to see Sadiq thrown over the controls and the pilots struggling with him while the aircraft accelerated.

"What is going on?!"

Arthur yelled over the sound of engines and fighting. Francis turned to him.

"Try to pull him off the thrust levers!"

Arthur did as he was told, his arms around Sadiq's middle, trying to pull him back but couldn't. The Turk was stronger than the three of them combined. The First Officer saw his speedometer and the closeness to the vehicles and yelled to the captain.

"80 Knots! We need to takeoff now!"

Francis pulled back the yoke, feeling a droplet of sweat run down his temple and into his loosened shirt. Sadiq was determined to do as Allah had commanded him to. They would take off or die.

"Rotate! _Que Dieu nous aide!"_

* * *

The Colonel came out of the tower to see, with binoculars, how the plane lift its nose and the front landing gear crashed against and flipped over an ambulance, throwing it against a fire truck both of them exploding into a ball of fire. The plane retracted its landing gear and took off into the dark skies.

He knew that the ordeal had not even started to decline, but was coming back with all its force, and he had not seen Jones since that grenade explosion and was afraid he would have been lost in the flames in the tarmac, and so was Matthew.


	10. Emergency

When the fire was put off, Matthew looked around for his brother but saw nothing but the upturned and burnt staircases and the tarmac covered with foam. That had been a disaster, and amidst the confusion of the hijackers shooting at them and throwing grenades, he had lost his brother and feared the worst. Suddenly, a foam-covered figure rose up from the ground and took off his eyeglasses, revealing a pair of striking blue eyes. Matthew sighed in relief upon seeing his brother, apparently unharmed after everything that had happened. Alfred sighed and his shoulders dropped.

"Well **that** went well"

He mumbled bitterly as he dusted himself off and looked up to see the lights of the plane getting lost in the clouds of the darks sky. Matthew went over to his brother and with a handkerchief started to clean his face as much as he could, but Alfred made a face and wiggled away of his brother's hands. He had always hated when someone else cleaned his face with a wet handkerchief, it had been a childhood trauma since he was around four years of age when they used to go over their maternal grandmother's house and she would give them chocolate ice cream, when Alfred's face became all stained with chocolate, their grandmother would lick one of her handkerchiefs and clean his face roughly, making him cry. It was funny for Matthew to remember.

"You're still a kid"

He said fondly, both of them walking over to the tower to meet the Colonel, who was as frustrated as Alfred, walking from side to side like a caged wild lion in a zoo. When he saw the foam-covered blonde climbing the stairs to the tower, he felt relieved, but he didn't want to show it in front of his underlings.

"Jones, good to see you"

He said simply, offering a seat for them both. Alfred refused but Matthew sat down.

"What is the situation, Colonel?"

"Well, after the disaster on the tarmac, we have little chance of mounting a successful rescue operation without risking the lives of the hostages. Let's not forget that we have 39 souls on board that airplane"

"Like I could"

Alfred mumbled, but the Colonel noticed, nevertheless, he decided to not ask any questions, after all, it wasn't his duty to know about his officers' private lives unless it interfered with the job directly. He continued talking, pacing around the room.

"Anyways, I have spoken with the Mossad and they told me they have a man in Beirut that will help you guys rescue the Jewish hostages held there"

"What Jewish hostages?"

Matthew asked, confused. The Colonel sighed and explained to him everything Geneviève LaGarde had said to him and her brother in the lounge. Both brothers were surprised with the new information and realised that it had been because of that that their mission had failed so terribly.

"God damn it!"

Alfred said, pinching the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tightly. He had to contain his tears, because now, after knowing everything that he knew, he was even more worried to not see Arthur ever again. Those bastards could blow up the plane whenever they wanted and kill everybody on board. After all, they were prepared to die.

"The good thing... well, I'm not sure to call it a good thing, but they don't have enough fuel to get to Beirut. They only have one hour of fuel, so our assumption is that they are going to land at the closest airport to Algiers in the Mediterranean..."

"Which is...?"

Matthew rolled his wrist issuing the Colonel to continue.

"Malta"

He said. Alfred sighed.

"It surprises me that they didn't notice **that** and they noticed **us**... bastards"

Alfred said, annoyed, with his arms crossed over his chest and his cheeks puffed out like an angry child who is about to throw a temper tantrum. Matthew put his hand over his arm like he always did when Alfred was upset. It didn't do anything, but it made him feel that his brother was there for him.

"The thing is that the GIGN won't be taking part in the operation. Several of their men resulted badly injured during the raid and Major LaGarde has agreed to retire his unit, so we have to wait until the Delta Team arrives"

That had pissed the Colonel before and was now pissing Alfred and Matthew too, although the latter choose to not demonstrate it, whilst his brother did, and very much so. He laughed rolling his eyes.

"Oh my God, so we only had those frogs – that sounds like something Arthur would say, he thought – come and help us, but when the thing gets difficult, they just go away. That is how they deal with hostage situation in their country. What a motherfucking..."

"Jones, that's enough!"

The Colonel snapped and Alfred sighed, leaving the tower.

"What the hell is wrong with him?"

He asked Matthew, who didn't want to expose his brother in front of a conservative man like the Colonel who, even though he had proved to be on Alfred's side several times in the past, would frown upon knowing that one of his best men was a homosexual and had a lover held hostage in that plane. Matthew wasn't sure if Alfred's need to rescue all those hostages answered a more altruist call or he just wanted to save his boyfriend.

"He... he has a lot going on"

The Colonel nodded and motioned Matthew to follow him out of the tower.

* * *

In the cockpit, there was tension between the hijackers – Sadiq and Gupta, who had chosen to accompany his leader wherever he went like a lap dog – and the pilots. Arthur was there to mediate between them. The Second Officer had informed Francis that they had hardly half an hour of fuel left and Sadiq was still with the idea of flying to Beirut.

"You don't understand. If we continue to fly to Beirut we'll crash in the sea and then you whole mission would have been in vain. _Vous me compris?_ "

Francis said, pinching the bridge of his nose, annoyed to the brim with the hijackers' demands. Gupta looked at Arthur, questioningly. He wanted him to translate, as much as he could, of what Captain Bonnefoy had said to Sadiq.

" _Not enough fuel_ "

He struggled to say. Gupta got angry and pushed Sadiq away, taking the pin of his hand grenade off and almost choking Francis with his arm, putting the grenade next to his head. Arthur paled.

" _Fly us to Beirut or we will blow the plane!_ "

He yelled in Arabic. Francis tried to wiggle out of the hijacker's embrace, but couldn't. Sadiq put his hand over Gupta's shoulder and he turned around. Francis spoke up before Sadiq had time to.

"Tell your friend to put that grenade away because this plane is going where I say it's going. Understood?"

He said. Arthur was marvelled. He had always thought that Francis was a coward, after all, he was so refined and so scared of anything that could stain his spotless designer clothes that he thought that, well... he would have been the first to freak out in a hijack situation, but during the whole ordeal, he had kept his cool, even when one of the hijackers had struck him in the head with a gun for no apparent reason. He was still a frog. A brave one, that is.

" _It's okay, Gupta_ "

Sadiq said calmly, so Gupta sighed and put the safe back into the hand grenade, stepping back and pushing Arthur aside so he could stand by the open door to the galley.

"Don't talk to me like that, captain, because remember that **we** are in control and I can tell my friend, here, to place the explosives in the cabin and we'll light up the sky like the Fourth of July, so try to keep your cool and remember who is in charge in this situation. Okay? Now, if we don't have enough fuel to fly to Beirut, then we'll fly wherever you think is viable and have the plane refuelled there before we continue to Beirut"

"What is the closest airport, Captain?"

Arthur asked, refraining from referring to him as "Francis" in front of the hijackers. He wanted to, at least, keep up appearances.

"Well, already passed Tunisia so our next option is Malta"

"Do you think they'll let us land?"

Arthur asked, genuinely worried. Sadiq and Gupta were looking back and forth at them. Francis sighed, looking out at the dark sky.

"I really hope so"

Arthur nodded and left the cockpit to check on his passengers and flight attendants, while the hijackers were causing a stir in First Class. Some passengers were asleep, others were reading to keep their minds off the situation they were in, and some other were sitting there, emotionless, not being able to process what was happening. Arthur noticed that some of those men had been like that ever since the whole ordeal began. He went to the rear galley where Lovino was trying to give a glass of water to his brother, Feliciano, who was on the floor crouched in a corner, sobbing and trembling.

"I can't handle this anymore"

Feliciano said in between sobs, Lovino turned around to look at Arthur in hopes the blonde would help him calm his brother down. Arthur grabbed the glass from Lovino's hands and kneeled down in front of Feliciano, who looked even smaller than he was. He put his hand over his shoulder, like he had done what felt like a hundred times ever since the hijack began. He could feel it trembling.

"Feliciano, you must control yourself. I know it's not easy, but let us help you"

Feliciano lifted his head from between his arms and took the glass of water with shaky hands, downing it quickly. He inhaled deeply and got up in wobbly legs, Arthur and Lovino held his hands as they made their way to the jump seat, where they left Feliciano gently.

"Are you better now?"

Lovino asked, a little annoyed at his brother's hysteric behaviour, but, after all, hysteric or not, he was still his brother and needed his help more than ever. He might act tough, but when it came to his stupid fratello, he was a softie. He sat next to him and hugged him with one arm.

Arthur smiled and realised that that was exactly his situation with Alfred. He could be like a grumpy old man on the outside, always annoyed by whatever crossed his eyes and calling everybody ugly names, but when it came to Alfred... he was the sweetest person alive. suddenly, a half empty cup of coffee vibrating over the counter and heard one of the engines slowing down, so he ran to the cockpit, where the pilots were struggling to turn off a beeping alarm that tainted the instrument panel red.

"What's happening, captain?"

"We are losing fuel. The number one engine is dead"

He turned around to face the dark sky in front of him and addressed his pilots.

"Engine restart checklist. Open the emergency fuel pumps"

Arthur bit his lip.

* * *

Inside the small private plane making its way over the Mediterranean towards Malta, the Colonel was in conference with General Honda from Washington as Gilbert was talking to Matthew about random things he didn't understand and sometimes mixing his English with German accidentally, whilst Alfred was twisting a paper in his hands, thinking what the situation could be on board the hijacked airplane. Especially, how Arthur would be doing.

"The Maltese government doesn't want to be involved in this situation. They won't let the plane land, but we know that is either Luqa or ditching in the Mediterranean, and then the rescue operations would have to be carried out in a very different way"

Alfred got up, alarmed, and addressed General Honda unceremoniously.

"Ditching? Does that mean... landing in the water?"

General Honda was taken aback by Alfred's sudden reaction towards him and he just nodded, making the blonde feel even more worried about his lover's well-being aboard that aircraft.

"Anyways, the 3 Commando Brigade of the United Kingdom is ready to help and on its way to Malta. You are supposed to meet with Brigadier Angus Kirkland in..."

At that moment, Alfred stopped listening to whatever the General was explaining because the man who was supposed to help them rescue the hostages could be, in any way, related to Arthur and that struck him like a load of bricks in his head. He would have never imagined that situation in a million years... well; he would have never imagined that Arthur's flight was going to be hijacked in the first place either.

"... Do you understand, Colonel?"

General Honda asked flatly. The Colonel nodded before answering his question.

"Yes, sir"

"Check in when you are in Malta"

"Will do, General"

The General closed communications and the Colonel sat back in his seat, sipping a cup of coffee. Matthew excused himself from the conversation he was forced in by Gilbert, who was sweating profusely, by the way, and went over to his brother. He put a hand over his shoulder and kneeled next to his seat, while the blonde's puzzled look was lost somewhere in outer space.

"Al, did I hear Kirkland? Isn't that Arthur's surname?"

Alfred was still beyond shocked and confused by everything that General Honda had said before in the conversation with the Colonel: the ditching, the familiar surname... he just nodded and turned to look at his brother's purple eyes.

"Y-Yeah... did you hear about the ditching?"

Matthew nodded, too, sadly. In their heads there was still the ghost of flight 980, which had ditched in the Caribbean seven years ago killing 23 people on board. He wasn't sure how a water landing would turn out for flight 103. It was a big plane, it could either land like a feather or it could break into pieces upon touching the water and that was their biggest fear.

Alfred didn't want to lose Arthur, and that was a fact to him and his brother. But, the truth, that he had never told Matthew or his parents or even the unit's psychiatrist, was that he, before he stumbled upon Arthur and started a relationship, had thoroughly considered the fact of killing himself because he felt worthless. Arthur, without knowing it, had saved his life, and that's why he was so important to him.

* * *

In the cockpit of flight 103, there was a deathly silence between the pilots, Arthur and Sadiq. No one dared to talk, not even through the radio. Arthur heard the Second Officer gulp and Francis casted a sideways glance to his co-pilot, before focusing on the dark skies in front of him. Feliciano and Lovino were helping the remaining passengers to seat on the back of the plane as instructed by the other hijackers in the cabin. Suddenly, the number two engine started losing power and the same alarm went off immediately.

"It's number two, sir. We still have no response from Malta"

The First Officer said, over the sound of the beeping alarm. Arthur covered his ears and was about to leave the cockpit, when Francis turned around to face him.

"Arthur, prepare the passengers for an emergency water landing"

Arthur took his hands off his ears. He was in disbelief. He had never heard of a water landing in the history of Pan Atlantic and never thought he would have to endure one either.

"What?"

"You heard me. Make something out of that useless display of femininity to show the safety features and prepare the cabin for a water landing. If we don't get to Malta, we would have to land at the sea. We don't have other options"

Francis said, clearly annoyed. Arthur huffed and looked down at Sadiq, who was twisting his gun in his hands, obviously nervous about the whole situation. Arthur nodded and went back to the cabin, where he found his flight attendants, standing in the aisle.

"What the hell is going on?"

Lovino whispered angrily and Arthur pushed them both to the galley. He closed the curtain and spoke, also in a whisper.

"The captain wants us to prepare the passengers for a water landing"

"What?!"

Feliciano yelled and his brother put his hand over his mouth. He tried to explain as calmly as he could the current situation to them, but they could see his hands shaking. Lovino nodded and, after a while, a teary-eyed Feliciano nodded too and went to the cabin. Arthur grabbed the interphone of the First Class galley and addressed the passengers.

"Gentlemen, we are experiencing mechanical difficulties and we are forced to make a water landing in the Mediterranean Sea. Please, remain calm and do exactly as we tell you. Life jackets are located under your seats. Place your head through the hole and adjust the straps at the sides. To inflate them, pull the red chord or blow air into the tubes the way the flight attendants are demonstrating..."

From his place in the First Class galley, he could see Feliciano and Lovino putting on their life jackets for the passengers to see in the middle of the aisle, like they did during the safety demonstrations at the start of every flight. Suddenly, they could hear another engine losing power and the lights inside the cabin blinked.

"Do not, I repeat, do **not** inflate them before leaving the aircraft. When the sign is given, get in brace position: put your head over your knees and grab your ankles. The slides can be used as..."

Feliciano ran to the galley, in tears, clearly upset, while the passengers were putting on their life jackets. Some of them got even more nervous. The hijackers also used the spare life jackets on themselves. Arthur sighed.

He hoped everything went well so he could see his baby again.

* * *

Hello, dear readers, I want to thank you for taking the time to read this and enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing and imagining it. The next chapter will be the last soooo fasten your seatbelts, 'cause it's gonna be a rough landing, bitches!


	11. Landing

Hello, dear readers, just a little note before you start reading the long-awaited final chapter of this story. I want to thank all of you, who made it possible for me to write such a thing, and I want to thank my Muslim and Jewish readers for their comprehension regarding the content of this story, I know this isn't the easiest topic to write about. This was very interesting and a little change from what I've been writing up until this moment. I want to thank my loyal reviewers, who made this my most reviewed story so far, and please, do not mistake the Arabic dialogues with the singing voice. Thank you, once more and I hope to see you again in any of my future stories.

* * *

When Arthur was done with the safety procedures, he went to the Economy cabin to check if all the passengers had their seatbelts fastened and their life jackets on. The hijackers, who up until that moment had been standing in the rear galley, were now crowding the aisle to get to First Class and sit down, just as it had been instructed by the flight attendants. Lovino was banging on the lavatory door to get Feliciano to open it. When Arthur approached him, he heard the loud sobs coming from inside. Arthur gently pushed Lovino aside.

"Feliciano, it's Arthur. I know this is hard for you, but you have a duty with all this passengers, you must not forget that. We all go through some rough times and right now we are going through one hell of a rough time, I admit that, but we are going through it togetherand we will get out of this **together** "

He could hear the sobs had stopped and the door opened revealing a teary eyed Feliciano. Arthur smiled sadly, he wasn't used to showing much affection at work, but this was a special situation, so he hugged Feliciano awkwardly and rubbed his back while he sobbed in his shoulder. Lovino rolled his eyes at his brother's mental weakness, but internally, he was glad that he was feeling better now.

"Now, put yourself together. Remember what I said to you at the beginning of the flight? We must behave the way it's expected from this airline"

"Y-Yes, s-sir"

Feliciano said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Arthur smiled and patted him on the back. Sadiq appeared behind of him and Lovino did everything but growl at him. Arthur turned around when he put his hand over his arm.

"Come with me"

Arthur gave a last squeeze to Feliciano's shoulder before following Sadiq to the cockpit, where the pilots were struggling to restart the engines while Francis was trying to tell Malta air traffic controllers that they were in an emergency and in desperate need to land.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but the Maltese government has given explicit orders to not let you land in our country..."

The air traffic controller said, with a thick accent, through the radio. Francis clenched his teeth and cut him mid-sentence.

"Malta, we have 52 souls on board! Now, the hijackers had threatened to blow up the plane and if he does, it will be **your** responsibility!"

"I'm sorry, flight 103, but..."

"Besides, we have only ten minutes of fuel, we have lost two engines and we are currently losing altitude, our only other option would be a water landing but we don't have enough fuel to wait until dawn so, you want it or not, we are coming in for landing"

Francis said and Arthur felt proud for the frog for standing up for himself and not being a coward like he always was. He was acting manlier than he really was and that was kind of arousing to Arthur... wait, did he say "arousing"? Oh my God. He snapped out of his train of thought by shaking his head and speaking up.

"What's happening?"

Francis turned around, pushing his luscious hair back, as it was blocking his vision. He should really think of cutting it short, but he wouldn't be himself without that long, beautiful hair that defined him from the other pilots of Pan Atlantic. When he entered a room, the people turned to look and admire his beauty. Francis smiled, remembering the old days... well, they weren't old per se, because the last episode of his obvious display of beauty had been during the pre-flight briefing before the flight that took them to Europe from New York.

"They won't let us land, but we are doing it anyways. I don't want to risk any lives by ditching in the dark"

He looked at Sadiq, who was genuinely nervous for this situation. He had been trained to be prepared to die for Allah, but... he rather die in an explosion which would kill him instantly, not drown in the sea, in the darkness, and without possibility to swim to the shore. If the plane broke apart in the water, there was an immense possibility of them all drowning, especially if they had their seatbelts on.

"I'm not doing this for your people, mind you"

Francis said harshly at Sadiq, who pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes and nodded before going to the cabin to look for a life jacket and return to take a seat in the cockpit. Arthur approached Francis.

"Are we... are we going to be able to land?"

He asked in a whisper, with his hand over his chest, closing the top two buttons of his shirt, which had become open in Beirut due to the heat inside the cabin. He was afraid of the answer Francis would give him, and the latter was afraid that the answer he would give him would be correct.

"I don't think so"

Arthur bit his lower lip and went back to the cabin.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the plane heading to Malta, the blonde major was sleeping, unbeknownst to him the danger that his loved one was enduring. Not at all unconscious about it, as he had heard what General Honda had said to the Colonel through conference and that had upset him so much, that his brother had to give him a sedative so he would calm down and that put him to sleep and dream about that beautiful moment he and Arthur shared the first night they spent at their new apartment.

Alfred was not used to sleep anywhere outside of his house, so when he and Arthur decided to move in together in an apartment of their own, he couldn't sleep at all. It was almost one o'clock in the morning, and there were bags darker than the sky outside beneath Alfred's blue eyes. He rubbed his face and sighed annoyed. Apparently, he had sighed so loudly that Arthur woke up and turned to look at him.

"Can't sleep?"

He asked, his voice rough from sleep. Alfred, without taking his tired eyes off the door that was across the room, nodded. Arthur got up slowly from the bed and fixed his pyjamas before leaning over the bed and kissing his cheek. The Brit left the room to get Alfred some warm milk, but after half an hour, they realised it didn't work, so Arthur tried something his governess had done several times in his childhood back in London.

He took out his music box and began to sing, while Alfred laid down on the bed and he caressed his blonde locks softly. The music began playing and Arthur cleared his throat.

 _What do you see?_

 _You people gazing at me_

Alfred looked up at Arthur with a confused expression. He wasn't singing his usual go-to song, this one was different and, yet, slightly familiar.

 _You see a doll on a music box_

 _That's wound by a key_

And then he recognised it! It was from his favourite film of his childhood! How could he had not recognised it at first? He couldn't think any longer, because the entrancing music and Arthur's fingers tangling slowly in his hair blurred his mind.

 _How can you tell?_

 _I'm under a spell_

 _I'm waiting for love's first kiss_

Arthur leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his young lover's forehead. Sometimes, he couldn't believe that such a marvellous and beautiful person would be interested in being with someone so boring, tasteless and old like him. It was something that had kept him awake most nights during the first day of their relationship.

 _Turning around on this music box_

 _That's wound by a key_

 _Yearning_

He began to twirl Alfred's cowlick with his index finger and thumb slowly as he heard the soft breathing coming from his lover, who was, slowly falling asleep.

 _Yearning_

 _While_

 _I'm turning around and around_

When Arthur finished the song, Alfred was already asleep. Suddenly, he felt someone gently shaking him awake. He opened his eyes slowly and saw Matthew with his usual serene expression in his face as he tried to wake his brother up while the Colonel was speaking and waiting for him to wake up fully, so he could explain to his unit what was going on.

"Are you awake, Jones?"

The Colonel asked sternly upon seeing Alfred yawn and rub his eyes.

"M'yes, sir"

Alfred said sleepily. Matthew got up and sat down in his seat. Gilbert watched his every move.

"We had just received confirmation that the plane is in distress. It's running low on fuel and will attempt and emergency landing in Malta"

"What about the Maltese authorities? I though they wouldn't let the plane land"

Matthew piped in.

"They won't... at least, that's what we know. Anyways, the British commandos are on their way and will arrive at Malta an hour before we do. Let's just hope the plane makes it that far"

Yeah, Alfred thought, let's just hope.

* * *

Back in the cockpit, the pilots had given up on restarting the engines one and two, and had set the autopilot to fly at a lower altitude, now able to see the lights of the coast. Time was running out and so was the fuel. Francis had decided to not stress the number three engine, which was operating slower than the fourth, so he pulled the third trust lever back two inches. They had left behind the possibility of a water landing, and Francis hoped they could make it far enough to land at Luqa, or else they would crash on the city.

Arthur, even though he knew – although he couldn't see through the windows – that they had passed the sea and were now overflying Luqa, kept the cabin prepared for an emergency water landing. He couldn't order the passengers to take off their life jackets now. He grabbed his bag – a company cerulean bag with the white logo of Pan Atlantic in the middle – from the First Class closet and took it to the rear galley, in the mean time, checking if the passengers had their seatbelts fastened and their life jackets in their place. A man grabbed his hand. He looked scared and was sweating profusely.

"What's happening?"

Arthur didn't know how to put it, and he had simply, detached himself from whatever it had to do with the cockpit because he wanted to be with Feliciano and Lovino in the rear galley and not up front with the other hijackers. He was overwhelmed and tired of them.

"We are going to land, so, please, fasten your seatbelts"

He said before walking over to the galley. The passenger didn't seemed to be calmed by that statement, but at that point, Arthur didn't care, he just wanted to be as far away from the hijackers as he could be. They weren't being loud and obnoxious like they had been in the previous legs of the trip, because they were genuinely scared. When he got to the galley, he found Lovino standing against the lavatory's door drinking a glass of water with his life jacket on, looking down at his brother, who was on his knees on the floor praying with a rosary. Arthur squeezed his shoulder and sat down in the jump seat, opening his bag.

He took out a small beige teddy bear with a red lace wrapped around his neck and the words "You are Grrr-eat" embroidered in red in his tummy. Arthur smiled sadly and felt his eyes get a little teary, so he wiped them with the back of his hand quickly, as to avoid anyone from noticing. That had been the first gift Alfred had ever given to him, on their first date.

In an amusement park.

Yes, that was Alfred's idea of romance.

Arthur remembered that day, it had been a couple weeks after the Fourth of July and it was very hot outside, so Arthur had gone against his principles and dressed in some jean shorts – that were a little too short for his liking – a white tank top and flip-flops. He had to roll his eyes upon seeing Alfred, standing at his doorway, wearing the same outfit. He had been going on and on about on their way to their date on Alfred's car.

"Oh, come on, Artie. We look good... even though you look better than I do. Dem legs..."

He whistled, making Arthur blush profusely. He smacked him across the head with a red face. Alfred laughed.

"What? Can't I say that my boyfriend looks hot in those shorts?"

Arthur had paused and turned to look at Alfred with a surprised expression in his face and a light, fading blush tinting his porcelain skin. They had never talked about their relationship, obviously, because it was their first date.

"You-You called me your boyfriend"

Arthur stated and Alfred shrugged, his eyes on the road all the time. He didn't consider it to be a big deal, apparently.

"Yeah, I mean, we are going out together and not as friends. So we are doing it as boyfriends"

Apparently, too, his logic didn't work quite like Arthur's did, because, to the Englishman, they were beginning to know each others, but being called someone's "boyfriend" was something that thrilled him. Although he wouldn't let it show.

Arthur was pulled out of his deep thoughts when they arrived at their destination. Arthur was very excited and was about to open the door, when Alfred did it for him. the Brit blushed and mumbled "git" under his breath, but took his boyfriend's hand nevertheless and climbed off the car. With a smile on his face he looked up to see where he had brought him and his smile dropped when he saw that they had parked in an amusement park.

"Really?"

The blonde flight attendant asked his American boyfriend with his thick eyebrow raised. Alfred just laughed and patted him on the back so hard that all air left his lungs, but, of course, he didn't mean harm.

"Aw, come on, Artie, it's gonna be fun!"

Alfred said loudly, flailing his arms around like crazy. Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes before accepting whatever Alfred had in mind for that pseudo-date. The young American ran inside like a kid and Arthur followed him behind like the grumpy father. The Brit managed to catch on to Alfred, who was standing in front of a claw crane, trying to take any of the stuffed animals inside.

"Come on, bitch!"

He said, sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth. Arthur found it cute and began to think about how cute Alfred was, with his slightly chubby body and childish demeanour. It felt as if Arthur would have to look after the younger man like a babysitter, rather than enjoy a healthy, mature relationship with him. Just when he was thinking about the pros and cons of having a relationship with Alfred, he pulled out a little teddy bear with a triumphant pose.

"Here... take it with you to China"

Arthur was left with his mouth hanging open and small tears forming in the corners of his emerald eyes. He was supposed to go on a flight to China the following day and he had told Alfred that, when he had asked him out for a date. He grabbed the teddy bear and, throwing away his gentlemanly persona, hugged it close to his face, nuzzling it with his nose with a smile on his face. He grabbed Alfred from the shoulders, surprising him, and kissed him in the lips not caring if anyone around could see them.

That had been the first fond memory he had of his relationship with Alfred and he had kept his bear in his bag ever since that moment, travelling with it all around the globe.

It was probably the last memory he would have of Alfred.

* * *

Okay, I lied to you. This isn't the last chapter, I thought it would be, but it... just... wasn't. The next chapter is going to be the last one, I promise.


	12. Malta

Well, dear readers, we have been together for twelve long chapters and I'm glad for that, because it helped me get to you in your homes, or at work or everything. I feel like a King on his Coronation Speech... in this case it would be Abdication, because I'm now finishing with my story. Anyways, thank you all for everything and I hope you enjoy this last chapter and the rest of my stories to come.

* * *

Arthur was snapped out of his memories by the ding dong of the interphone, receiving a call from the cockpit. Lovino looked at Arthur – who must have had a dreamy expression in his face with the bear in his hands – strangely before picking it up.

"Yes, captain?"

He handed the phone over to Arthur, who put the bear back in his bag and closed it. He was called in to the cockpit immediately, so he crossed the cabin and, when he was about to pass First Class, he felt a hand grab his vest from one of the seats. He turned around and faced the Syrian hijacker. There was fear in his eyes. Not like the passenger he had met before, but there was still that lingering feeling.

"Yes?"

He asked, annoyed. He didn't have patience to deal with them anymore. The hijacker stuttered but spoke up, finally.

"A-Are we going to land now?"

Arthur looked down at him.

"I think so"

He then removed the hijacker's hand from his vest and went over to the cockpit, where he could clearly hear the sound of slowing engines and could see dim lights through the glass. Sadiq was strapped in his seat with his life jacket on, grasping his knees. Francis turned around and faced him while the First Officer spoke, desperately, through the radio.

"Malta, please, turn on the runway lights!"

Not wanting to deal with another hijack situation, the Maltese airport authorities had decided to turn off the runway lights so they couldn't land, but Francis was determined, and Arthur could see it in his face.

"Prepare the passengers for a crash landing"

Arthur gulped and nodded before leaving the cockpit. In the First Class galley, he grabbed the intercom and addressed the passengers and, much to his dismay, also the hijackers.

"Brace positions for landing!"

Lovino grabbed his brother, who was still praying on his knees with the rosary, and they both sat down and strapped themselves in the jump seat, putting their heads over their knees and grabbing their ankles. Arthur did the same in First Class. The passengers crossed their arms over the seatback in front of them and put their head between them. Arthur was prepared to jump off his seat and deploy the slides at the moment they crashed on the ground and so was Lovino. That couldn't be said of Feliciano, who was sobbing and had trouble keeping his head down. His shoulders were trembling.

In the cockpit, Francis didn't know whether he was descending on the runway or on the ground, but didn't care, as long as he put that big bird somewhere safe and he wasn't sure if landing on the ground next to the runway would be safe or not, but at least, they didn't have that much fuel to create an explosion so big. When he felt the landing gear touch down the runway, he didn't hesitate to immediately deploy full flaps, the spoilers and reverse thrust of the two only engines that were working. When the nose gear touched down the speed had been reduced and they came to a full stop in no time.

In the First Class galley, Arthur sighed in relief. They had made it to the runway safely without any lights to guide them, but he also knew that this nightmare wasn't over, because, if they would have crashed near the airport, we would have had the chance to evacuate the passengers and then everything would have ended for good, but now, they were still trapped inside of a tube with twelve mad men ready to die.

The nightmare wasn't over, indeed.

* * *

Three hours later, when both the Americans and the British commandos had arrived, the Colonel met with Brigadier Kirkland to discuss a plan of acti0n that would have his men injured or killed like it happened with the GIGN in that failed attempted rescue operation in Algiers the previous night. Alfred couldn't keep the fact that he might be related to Arthur out of his mind, as he had some coffee, while his brother and Gilbert talked to the members of the brigade. They knew that the Prime Minister had personally come – with an interpreter – to the airport and the Maltese armed forces had surrounded the plane.

"Your attention, gentlemen"

Brigadier Kirkland said, addressing his unit. They all turned around like the Queen's corgis. The Colonel spoke up when the Brigadier gave him the key. Kirkland looked like the usual snobby Englishman... although he looked more Scottish than English, but had a Londoner accent. Alfred didn't even know there were different accents within the United Kingdom. He though they all spoke like Arthur did.

"The Prime Minister is trying to talk the hijackers into releasing the remaining hostages, but they won't negotiate, so that's when we come in action. This will be the plan: we have already spoke to the Prime Minister and he told us that they wanted to provide the plane with food and drinks in an hour, that will give us enough time to prepare the gear. Jones, you will have Section 1 and Williams, you will have Section 2, you will both have access to the plane through the catering vehicles, we will send you to the tarmac inside of them. Jones, you will go in through the First Class door, clearing the cabin and the cockpit, which is where the hijackers are according to the released hostages. Williams, you will go through the Economy Class door, you will be in charge of evacuating the passengers and crew. When you are done, meet Jones at the front. Got it?"

The Colonel explained, but Gilbert spoke up with a confused expression on his face.

"Wait... what about the awesome me?"

"Well, the "awesome you" will have the third section and you will be in charge of rescuing the hostages from Beirut, so we are sending you there right away. Everything is arranged for you to meet with your contact from the Mossad at the airport"

The Colonel answered his question and Gilbert fist-pumped in the air with a smile on his face.

"Kesesesese~ awesome!"

The Colonel rolled his eyes and, when the meeting was adjourned, Alfred went over to Brigadier Kirkland, nervous and shifting his feet. Matthew encouraged him.

"Um, excuse me, Brigadier"

Kirkland turned around from where he was pouring himself a cup of tea and looked at Alfred up and down. The truth was that he didn't have tolerance towards Americans, he found them annoying and thought that the world would be better without them... either that, or the world would have been better if they hadn't started that bloody stupid war against them for no apparent reason. That was all in Brigadier Angus Kirkland's head as he blinked twice and ushered Alfred to speak with a silent nod.

Alfred scratched the back of his neck with a slight blush, shifting his foot from side to side. To the Brigadier, that was a pathetic display of emotions not proper of an American soldier, who called themselves the best of the world, and to his consideration, they could never beat the British Empire... which didn't exist any longer, but... still.

"I was wondering, because of your surname and all... do you have any relation with Arthur Kirkland?"

Kirkland hadn't heard the name of his younger brother in years, since he left home after their parents and entire family turned their backs at him. He had done it too, because he had given in to peer pressure, but either way, there was something wrong about Arthur telling the entire world about his sexual preferences. Something he didn't approve. He composed himself and answered.

"No"

He left the room almost immediately after answering, leaving a dumbfounded Alfred behind. Matthew came up to him upon seeing the Brigadier leave so calmly.

"What did he say?"

Alfred turned around to face his stepbrother.

"Well... he said no"

"And do you believe him?"

"I... don't know"

He truly wasn't sure.

* * *

There was silence in the cabins; Arthur was trying to get some sleep at the front row of Economy when suddenly he felt someone sitting next to him. Expecting it to be Feliciano or Lovino, or even Francis, he turned around and was surprised to see Sadiq, looking up at the front, and Gupta sitting down on an armrest on the other side of the aisle, looking at them, throwing and catching his grenade in the air. Arthur sighed.

"What's the matter? Do you want something?"

Sadiq turned to look at him, then.

"You don't like us, do you?"

Arthur snorted and turned back to watch the closed window and snuggle underneath his blanket. They were in summer, but it was the early morning, so it was a little chilly inside.

"That's a safe bet, mister"

Arthur said sarcastically, without turning around to see him as he spoke. Sadiq sighed and looked at Gupta. He knew that he had to approach Arthur somehow.

"Are you British?"

Arthur sighed annoyed and turned around, facing the hijacker. He nodded with a frown in his face. He turned around again and decided that that was the last time he was going to do so. He was getting dizzy.

"From London?"

Sadiq asked. Gupta didn't understand anything of what they were talking about, but was interested in the flight attendant's reaction.

"Yes"

Arthur answered. Sadiq smiled so he decided to ask another question.

"You work in the hub in London?"

"No"

"Then why...?"

He was cut off by Arthur, who turned around to face him – again – this time, more annoyed than before. How dare he try to investigate about his personal or professional life? It was his life, after all.

"Why are you doing this?"

Sadiq's expression changed. He was confused. He didn't know what Arthur was talking about.

"I want to get to know you"

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I mean, why are you doing this to **us**?"

Sadiq frowned and turned to look at the front, to the First Class cabin. He intertwined his fingers over his lap. His whole body expression changed and Arthur could see that.

"That's the only way they can hear us"

"Who?"

Arthur asked, confused.

"The world"

Sadiq answered, as if it was nothing.

"The world needs to hear us, and this is the only way. They only hear this"

He said, taking out his gun. Arthur looked at it and then back at Sadiq's face with an intrigued expression in his face.

"And the only way of making them "hear" is by depriving innocent people from their freedom? Do you think that's what your leaders want? Do you think that...?"

"Enough"

Sadiq said, quite loudly, enough to make Arthur silent, but without yelling. He captured the attention of passengers and hijackers sitting in closer rows to them. Arthur sighed and turned around again, trying to get some sleep, when the Turk's softer voice – now –interrupted his actions.

"Can you sing?"

Arthur turned around.

"What?"

Sadiq looked at him with warm, chocolate eyes.

"I want you to sing for me"

Arthur didn't understand anything, so Sadiq, in order to get closer to him, decided to open up his feelings and memories to the flight attendant. The Turk sighed, looking at the front.

"When I was little, my first memories are my mother singing to me when I was upset. You are here. Sing to me"

Arthur didn't know what to do, so he decided not to displease the hijackers and he began to sing the song he had sung to Alfred ever since they moved in, one of the few songs he knew and one of the most beautiful to him. He cleared his throat and began to sing with a very soft voice.

 _What do you see?_

 _You people gazing at me_

 _You see a doll on a music box_

 _That's wound by a key_

He looked at them, afraid that that song would not appeal to them. He didn't want to seem too feminine in front of these men who could, well, kill him. To his surprise, he saw how they seemed to enjoy them, because there were smiles on their faces.

 _How can you tell?_

 _I'm under a spell_

 _I'm waiting for love's first kiss_

Arthur saw how they were moving their heads from side to side like if they were little children, listening to their mother singing to them. He didn't realise that the other hijackers and passengers could hear them over the deathly silence that reigned over the aircraft. Feliciano poked his head out of the galley.

At least there was some relief in that tense situation.

* * *

After the general rehearsal with the British commando on a grounded BOAC jetliner ceded kindly by the British government in order to prepare for the storming of the aircraft, Alfred went over to the snack bar inside the Terminal, which had been closed like the airport for the occasion – even though they didn't count with the Maltese government's approval – and was quickly followed by his brother. Alfred was pouring himself a cup of coffee but stopped abruptly and sighed. Matthew put his arm around his brother's shoulders.

"I know it's hard, but we did well in our rehearsal, you heard the Colonel"

Matthew said, hoping to sound comforting for his brother in distress. Alfred turned his to look at his brother, with tears in his eyes, threatening to spill. His upper lip was quivering.

"What if something goes wrong? What if I accidentally shoot him in the head? Oh my God!"

He started to hyperventilate and Matthew had to snap him out of it by shaking him slightly grabbing him from the shoulders. Alfred calmed down and began to breathe normally once again. Matthew relaxed.

"You will not. You are a great shooter, that won't happen"

Matthew tried to calm him down, but there was still that question lingering on the blonde Canadian's head...

What if something goes wrong?

* * *

Arthur kept singing, upon seeing that both Sadiq and Gupta liked it. He was beginning to feel nervous, but when the song ended, the both clapped vigorously with big smiles on their faces. Other passengers had also been a little bit tranquilized by Arthur's soft singing voice. Gupta nudged Sadiq with a smirk on his face and his grenade on his hand. The Turk turned around to face him, his smile never faltering. Arthur was glad everything had turned out well.

" _He sings nice"_

He said. Sadiq nodded.

" _He does... if he were a woman, he would make a fine wife"_

Arthur's small smile faltered upon catching that sentence with his little knowledge in Arabic. Gupta laughed and looked at Arthur with penetrating eyes, making the blonde flight attendant very uncomfortable.

" _He doesn't need to. Put a wig on him, and if he is on his stomach, you can pound him as a beautiful woman"_

Arthur cleared his throat and got up, his face redder than a tomato. He put the folded blanket on the overhead compartment while Gupta and Sadiq checked his round bottom and he went over to the galley to have some water to cool off.

"Is everything okay?"

Feliciano asked, upon seeing the distressed face his co-worker was making and the way his hands shook when he poured himself water on the glass. Arthur turned to look at him and Lovino, who was also wondering what the hell was up with him.

"They... they..."

And then he began laughing. It was a nervous laughter, and it was pretty contagious. A ding signalled them that the cockpit was calling and they stopped laughing. Feliciano wiped a tear from his eye and Arthur composed himself before answering.

"Yes, captain?"

"Stand by, the catering is coming from the port side"

"Yes, sir"

Arthur hung up the interphone and addressed the Italian flight attendants. Feliciano was still chuckling and Lovino was looking at him as if he was a madman.

"Listen, the catering is coming, you two cover the port door and I'll go to First Class. It was about time that we received some food. I'm starving"

Arthur said, rolling his eyes and going over to First Class. What they didn't know was that the commandos had received the go-ahead when Sadiq had agreed to bring the food to the plane. On board the approaching catering vehicles were Alfred, Matthew and their respective units.

Arthur opened the door of the port side of First Class and Feliciano opened the door in the Economy galley upon seeing the vehicles approaching. When they were in place in front of each open door, it was when Alfred's fear materialized. Now was the time.

* * *

Suddenly, and not for the first time, it was as if all hell had broken loose. The doors of the vehicles opened and several armed commandos stormed the plane, causing confusion and a slow response from the hijackers upon the detonation of several smoke bombs which clouded their visions. Arthur was petrified and suddenly pulled out of the way and into the cabin by one of the men with an American flag badge on his arm. He pulled up his polycarbonate visor, revealing to be Alfred.

"Arthur..."

"Alfred!"

"You gotta get out of here!"

"But..."

Arthur was confused when the gun battle began. Alfred forced him down and pulled down his visor, pushing him towards the Economy cabin, where there was chaos too, as Matthew's unit was trying to get the passengers off their seats. Arthur closed the curtain, then realising that that wouldn't do anything to protect them.

"Deploy the slides!"

He yelled at Feliciano, who was confused at everything that was going on. Suddenly, gunfire penetrated through the Economy cabin and Arthur pushed everybody down. At that moment, Vash could only think of Lilly and how he would never see her again. He was trying to keep her hair clip in his hand. She had given it to him before leaving the airplane and was the only material thing she had of her on board, and was trying not to lose it in the confusion. Feliciano and Lovino were ushering the passengers to jump off the slide deployed from the starboard exit.

"Jump, go!"

They yelled along with Matthew, whose unit had already gone to the front to help Alfred's. There was a big explosion and Arthur wanted to go check if Alfred was alright, but Matthew pushed him off the slide. Feliciano and Lovino helped him up, but he wanted to get back.

"Alfred! Wait, no...!"

"You'll see Alfred later, now **move your ass**!"

Lovino yelled as he pushed Arthur away from the plane. The evacuation had been successful. Arthur looked up and saw the international television from all around Europe and the world broadcasting the assault.

Inside the plane, Matthew's unit had practically shot dead all twelve terrorists in the First Class cabin whilst Alfred was engaged in a gun battle with Sadiq and Gupta. The pilots were trying to make themselves as small as they could in order to not get shot by the hijackers. Gupta threw his hand grenade at them.

"Grenade!"

Matthew yelled and threw his brother back, receiving all the impact of the explosion.

* * *

At the early morning hours of the following day, after watching the news about the successful rescue of the hostages in Malta, all the passengers' wives, young sons, daughters, mothers and grandmothers along with authorities of the Israeli government were present at Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel Aviv waiting for the military plane to arrive.

At around seven o'clock, the Aviocar of the Maltese Army, escorted by the Israeli Air Force, landed and taxed towards where they had been told that the remaining hostages and the international television would be waiting. Feliks kneeled down to hug Lilly and smiled at her before standing up and putting his arm around a now-recovered Toris, waiting for the other flight attendants. He had been ecstatic when he found out about it through the BBC News channel on TV. He didn't like staying at Israel... the language was too difficult. Suddenly, he was caught off-guard when something warm pressed against his cheek and he turned around to see a smiling and blushing Toris.

"I hope its ok..."

Before he could finish the sentence, Feliks slammed his lips to his' ignoring the scandalized looks the other passengers and Israeli policemen were giving them. Toris put his arms around the Pole's tiny waist and he sneaked his arms around the other's neck. They broke the kiss, panting when the people started cheering as the plane's door opened and the hostages started coming out. They left the happy couple staring into each other's eyes behind as they ran to their loved ones.

Vash wiped the tears from his eyes as he embraced his little sister Lilly and lifted her up in the air. Feliks grabbed Toris' wrist and guided to where the Italian brothers were and Arthur, resting his head on Alfred's shoulder and his arm around his waist. They embraced each other and some tears spilled.

 _Henei ma tov umanaim_

 _Shevet achim gam yachad_

On a smaller plane coming from Beirut came Gilbert's awesome unit and the Jewish hostages on its way to Tel Aviv. The Edelstein couple was happy to be alive and Elisabetta grabbed Gal's hand, who was also holding onto her husband. The other two men were smiling and shaking each other's hands.

 _Henei ma tov umanaim_

 _Shevet achim gam yachad_

They were all happy and thankful to be alive. Roderick, who up until then had been a little reluctant to his wife's romantic advances, couldn't wait to get home and spend a night loving each other and kissing her all over.

* * *

Arthur opened the door to their apartment, extremely tired, after a long meeting between the crew of flight 103 and Pan Atlantic executives. He had managed to get a month off before starting to work again like normal. How would one emotionally recover after having a gun to his head in one month apparently wasn't on the executives' minds. He heard rustling in the kitchen and the TV on in the living room. He raised an eyebrow as he locked the door.

"Alfred?"

"I'm in the kitchen!"

He said from afar and walked further into the flat, where he found Matthew eating some pancakes with maple syrup and strawberries to the side – after all, it was still early – watching the news about the "Rescue of the Century" as the media called it. He turned around upon hearing light footsteps closer to him and smiled at Arthur, wiping the syrup from the corner of his mouth, politely with a napkin. He had always been a polite eater, unlike his brother.

"Oh, hi, Matthew. How are you today?"

"Well, as fine as one could be with three broken ribs"

He said nonchalantly making Arthur smile. He squeezed his shoulder and went into the kitchen, where he saw Alfred arranging a tray with a burger, some fries and a glass of Coke. He looked around and didn't find the kitchen completely burn by Alfred's stupidity, but then, Matthew acted as the wise voice as always.

"I cooked it!"

Arthur sighed. Alfred hugged Arthur around the waist and lifted him up in the air.

"Git, what the bloody 'ell are you doing?!"

Alfred laughed that annoying laugh and put him down, kissing him deeply and leaving him a little dizzy. He would never admit what his kissed did to him in front of the loud American. He wouldn't hear the end of it.

"There is a message from Feliks in the phone. Hear it"

Arthur went back to the living room and saw that there was one message in the answer machine. He heard Feliks' cheery voice through the phone and smiled.

"Like, hello everybody, this is Feliks..."

"... and Toris"

Came Toris' quiet, obviously embarrassed voice, and a giggle from Feliks in the background. He kept on talking.

"I want you to know that Toris as I are now dating and would love to go on a double date with you guys tomorrow. We made reservations at Lillie's. I know how much you like British food, Arthur, and I know how much you like to please Arthur, Alfred – inside and outside of the bed"

Feliks said before laughing, making Arthur blush furiously. When the message ended, he turned around and slapped Alfred slightly and went to the kitchen to make himself some tea. While waiting for the kettle to whistle, he began thinking.

Life was slowly starting to normalize.

When he returned to his job as a flight attendant again a month later as did the Italian brothers, and was happy to know that the relationship between Feliks and Toris had bloomed. They were so much in love that they would have married each other if, well... if it would have been legal. He was also disappointed to know that Feliks had quitted his job and become a full-time housewife at his' and Toris' house, like he had always wanted.

And, so, my dears, they lived happily ever after and that glorious day of summer in Malta was always remembered like America's greatest achievement and the day Arthur learned to value more his relationship with Alfred. The purser known as Arthur Kirkland was credited with having saved the lives of almost a hundred passengers when standing up to the hijackers, by both executives of Pan Atlantic and the US Government.

The End.

* * *

Well, guys, that was it. I hope you liked it as much as I did and I'm glad you allowed me into your homes, or workplaces, or wherever you could have read this story. I hope to see you again soon, and, as always...

 _Thank you for flying Pan Atlantic Airways!_


End file.
